Sixth Year Switch
by Reverie Wilde
Summary: Sectumsempra- Harry tries to use the spell on Draco, but it's inexplicably blocked. Draco has something new up his sleeve that changes everything. Both boys end up in the infirmary, and when Harry wakes up, he's just not himself. Sixth and Seventh Year retold with a twist. Slash, Drarry, Harpy, Harry with others. sex and language warnings
1. sectumsempra

**Well, instead of finishing up my only unfinished fanfiction, I've been working on this new one. I feel incredibly guilty. But once something sticks in my head, I have to get it out. I don't recall any fics quite like this, so I hope it's not too cliche. I won't say it's not predictable, because it is a Drarry after all. So you know where it's headed. I think this is my first fic that takes place before the end of the war.**

**The story begins with the bathroom scene in which Harry uses sectumsempra against Draco. Obviously, there will be minor changes in the storyline going forward, but basic events remain relatively the same, but from a slightly different perspective. This story won't follow the epilogue of the book, though.**

**warnings for slash &amp; language**

**oh, and I'm supposed to say I don't own the characters of the Harry Potter series, and I do not intend to make money from this story, yadda, yadda, yadda**

* * *

"Sectum-" Before Harry could finish incanting the spell, Malfoy had thrown another curse at him.

"Going to try something new, were you Potter?" Malfoy sneered.

Harry's eyes widened as he realized Malfoy was using Legilimency on him. There was no other way he could have known about the new spell Harry came across in his Potions book. They glared at one another.

"Got some tricks up your own sleeve, Malfoy. Two can play at that game."

Though Professor Snape had been coaching Harry in the art of Occlumency, the boy was not proficient yet. Neither was he very good at Legilimency, which he been attempting to learn on his own. Harry had a difficult time fending off Malfoy both with his wand _and_ his mind. Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed to have no trouble at all.

The pair took turns hexing each other, while attempting to get into one another's head. Harry was convinced that Draco, like his father, had become a Death Eater but no one believed him. He had to know for his own satisfaction. However, he doubted anyone would believe him if he told them he used _Legilimens _on Draco. In fact, Harry wasn't at all certain he could successfully use the spell.

A lull in the action resulted in both boys concentrating on the other. Each of them simultaneously pushed his way in to the other boy's mind, while trying to keep his own mind closed. It was mentally exhausting. Harry felt he was losing ground and feared Draco would soon have access to his innermost thoughts.

With a large flourish, Harry used all of his considerable magical strength to try and push Draco out of his head and cast a Stupify. He was successful in using the spell, but not before Draco cast a spell of his own, while maintaining his hold in Harry's thoughts.

Their curses crossed, rebounded, and crossed again. Their wands nearly grew too hot to handle. And the force of the magic sent them both reeling backwards, leaving them both unconscious on the lavatory floor. Water spilled from the faucets and broken pipes, covering the floor in a large puddle. Draco's head hit the mirror behind him, breaking it and giving him a rather large gash, along with many others from the broken glass. The blood mingled with the water in thin tendrils that grew larger by the minute. Without urgent care, Draco was in danger of bleeding to death.

A student walking by heard the commotion and burst in to find the two boys lying unconscious. A professor was called, and they were taken immediately to the hospital wing.

**hdhdhdhdhd**

Slowly, Harry opened his eyes. His head was pounding and what little light was in the room hurt his eyes. He could hear soft whispering nearby but couldn't make out what was being said or who was saying it.

He closed his eyes again and fell back into a deep sleep.

The next time Harry regained consciousness, he felt slightly better. His headache was more of a dull pain, and the light didn't bother him as much. He could see that he was in the hospital wing. And he could clearly make out Ron's voice.

"You were bloody lucky, Harry. Malfoy could have killed you."

"Ron, Malfoy is in much worse shape than Harry," Hermione reminded the ginger.

"Yeah," Ron smiled. "Serves him right, the prat."

Harry lifted his head, which resulted in immediate pain and dizziness. Where was Ron? Why couldn't he see him? He tried again and more carefully raised his head just high enough to see Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey gathered around a bed on the other side of the room. He tried to call out to them, but hadn't the strength. His voice was so weak, it came out only as a squeak.

Pomfrey quickly turned her head in Harry's direction.

"Oh, you're finally awake," she smiled. The nurse made her way over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We were worried about you."

"Speak for yourself," Ron muttered, across the room. He moved out of the way far enough for Harry to see whose bed his friends were gathered around.

To his utter surprise, Harry saw himself propped up in the other bed, smiling and talking with his friends. The Gryffindor blinked, then noticed that he didn't have his glasses on, so he must have been seeing things wrong. He looked for them on the bedside table but they weren't there.

From across the room, her heard himself laugh. It was then that he realized he could see perfectly without his glasses. He became more confused than ever when he saw Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini rush into the room.

"Merlin, you look like hell," Blaise told him.

Again, Harry tried to speak, but only grunted.

"Don't try to talk, luv," Pansy said, brushing the hair from his forehead. "You've been out for a whole day."

"Thanks to that tosser," Blaise glared back at the other Harry.

"All right, all right," Madam Pomfrey flailed her arms at all the visitors. "My patients need rest. You can come back later, after supper."

Pansy pouted. "I'll be back for sure Draco. I promise," she called, looking directly at Harry and smiling sweetly.

Harry could only blink in response.

"Bye Harry," Ron shouted.

The other Harry grinned and waved back. "Bye!"

Before leaving, Hermione gave the impostor a squeeze.

"Feel better."

"I will. Thanks Hermione," the imposter answered.

When all the visitors and Pomfrey left the room, the other boy grimaced. "Ugh. Your friends are _sickening_."

He gingerly got out of bed and crossed the room, settling on the end of Harry's bed. He laughed at the confused look on Harry's face.

"Still haven't figured it out yet, Potter?"

"What?" Harry's voice, which sounded suspiciously like Malfoy's, came out as a shadow of a whisper. He picked up the glass of water on the table and took a sip.

"Don't strain yourself," the other boy said sarcastically.

Slowly, Harry's voice returned to him, weak but at least audible. "M-M-Malfoy?"

"What tipped you off genius?" the other Harry/Malfoy questioned. "Of course it's me. Or were you hoping there were two of you now?"

"How?" Harry croaked out.

Malfoy-now that Harry knew for sure it was Malfoy-shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know exactly. The last thing I remember is . . . you trying to read my thoughts. Then I cast a curse. I don't remember what happened after I flew through the air."

Harry very gently rubbed the back of his head. "I think you hit your head." He assumed, rightly so, that if Malfoy was him, he was now Malfoy.

Malfoy held his arm up. "You sprained your wrist. And banged up your back pretty badly."

"We have to tell Dumbledore what happened," Harry cried. "Maybe he can change us back."

"Whoa, you hit your head pretty hard there, Malfoy. And now you think you're me?"

"Huh?" Harry's eyes widened.

"That's all I have to say, you know. They'll all think you're barmy and you'll end up in a lunatic asylum."

"But I don't want to be you."

"Ha! I don't want to be _you_ either."

"You just don't want to have to fight Voldemort," Harry smirked. He held his hand up to his head. "I have a blinding headache."

"All right Harry," Madam Pomfrey said as she walked into the room. "I think Mr. Malfoy needs his rest."

Draco nodded and went back over to his bed, pretending to walk with a stiff back.

"Oh, Harry, do you need a potion for your back or wrist?"

Draco nodded, trying to look somewhat pathetic.

Harry didn't have to try to look pathetic, he was in a lot of pain. "Madam Pomfrey, may I have something for my head?"

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy," she said.

Though she was generally kind to him, Pomfrey called him by his surname, or rather, by Draco's surname. She brought three potions: one for Harry's bodily injuries, one for Draco's head and a sleeping potion.

"Take this, Mr. Malfoy. The best thing for you right now is rest."

"But-" Harry wanted to continue his conversation with Draco to figure out what they should do.

"No arguments," she said sternly. "There is nothing more important than your recovery."

"Yes Draco," Draco said to Harry. "You want to take good care of that body." He said it as a warning, but Madam Pomfrey took it as concern.

"That's our Harry, still concerned even after getting hexed by you. I hope you've learned a lesson."

Before Harry could respond, she turned on her heel and left.

The sleeping potion was already beginning to take affect, and all Harry could do was turn his head to look at Draco, who was smirking.

"Sweet dreams," he said, chuckling.

It was the last thing Harry could remember until the next morning.

**hdhdhdhdhd**

"Why isn't my son in a private room?" Lucius Malfoy demanded.

"Mr. Malfoy, we don't have private rooms here in the infirmary," Pomfrey tried to explain.

"Then I'll have him moved to St. Mungo's."

Harry opened his eyes to see the pair of them looming over his bed.

"That was a good long sleep," she commented.

"Draco, how are you feeling?" Lucius asked.

Harry groaned. How was he supposed to pretend to be this man's son?

"I'm all right. A little dizzy, and my head hurts. But it's not as bad as it was . . . how long have I been out?"

"About ten hours," Pomfrey replied. "I can get you something for the pain if you'd like."

He nodded carefully.

"Son, I'm going to have you moved to a proper facility."

"I'm okay," Harry said weakly.

"I want a professional to care for you, not some third rate healer."

"Hmf," Madam Pomfrey snorted as she handed Harry a vial.

Harry's eyes flashed to Draco who was trying to mouth something to him. He squinted.

"But you're clearly in pain."

"No . . . I mean, I am, but . . ." Harry was watching Draco point down at the floor. He wasn't sure what the other boy was trying to get across. Then he finally made out the words _stay here. _Draco seemed fairly adamant that Harry not allow himself to be taken away. It was true that the boys wouldn't be able to communicate if he left.

"Madam Pomfrey is taking good care of me. I already feel better than when I came in."

Draco was mouthing something else. Harry struggled to focus before making out the words.

"Please, Father," he said, feeling a bit ill at having to utter those words to Lucius Malfoy. "My friends are here. They come to cheer me up. And they can help me keep up with my school work."

"Merlin, you're not expected to do school work while you're in here. I'll have a talk with that old fool before I leave."

"I'm certain, Mr. Malfoy, that your son's professors will understand that he is in no condition to keep up with his studies, and will give him extra time to complete assignments," Madam Pomfrey sneered.

"I'm going to make sure he's exempt from any assignments due while he's here."

"Father," Harry grimaced. Luckily, Lucius thought it was from pain. "Please. I don't want to go to St. Mungo's. I'll be all alone. Please let me stay here."

Lucius sighed heavily. Not being able to refuse his only son, he relented. "All right. But if you're not making adequate progress, I will have you moved." He glared at Pomfrey, who stood her ground.

"I treat all of my patients with the utmost care, Mr. Malfoy. Now, if you don't mind, my patients require rest and quiet."

"I'll check in on you soon, son," Lucius said before leaving in a huff.

Harry looked up at the matron. "Sorry."

She blinked in surprise, then said, "It's not your fault. And I suppose your father simply wants the best for you."

She watched Harry down the potion and hand back the vial.

"Just call if you need anything," she said the the pair of them, then went into her office.

Harry lay his head back down on the pillow, exhausted from the exchange with Lucius.

"That wasn't half bad, Potter," Draco said from his bed.

"What?"

"Getting my father to let you stay here. Once he makes up his mind about something, it usually happens. When it comes to me, that is."

Harry shrugged. "Thanks for telling me what to call him. I very nearly called him Lucius." Harry laughed, then immediately regretted it. "I think you really hit your head hard."

"I heard them saying I hit the mirror so hard, it shattered off the wall."

"Oh. What about me then? How badly am I injured?"

Draco held up the bandaged wrist. "Just this. And my back is bruised pretty badly." He laughed. "I mean, _your_ back."

"So, what should we do?" Harry asked. The potion was taking affect and he felt like he could concentrate a little better. "You don't think we should tell Dumbledore?"

Draco pursed his lips. "Snape. If anyone will know how to get us out of this, it's Snape."

"He hates me," Harry said.

"Well, Dumbledore hates _me_."

"No he doesn't," Harry countered. "Dumbledore treats all the students equally."

"Ha! He favors you and you know it."

"Fine," Harry grumbled. "We'll talk to Snape."

Grinning triumphantly, Draco said, "But in the mean time, you have to tell me how to deal with Granger and the Weasel."

"For starters, don't call them that," Harry frowned.

"Fine."

"And what do you mean, how to deal with them?"

Draco blew out a frustrated breath. "They keep visiting. And I don't know what they're talking about sometimes. They're beginning to think you hit your head as well."

"Oh. I didn't think of that," Harry said. "But to tell you the truth, I haven't been able to think of much."

"Tell me some things I need to know."

"Like what?" Harry was at a loss. Ron and Hermione could talk about anything. He thought about the things he might need to know if Pansy and Blaise came back.

"Whatever you think is important. I don't know."

"Well," Harry thought. "Hobbies? Major life experiences."

Draco gave him a deadpanned look. "Seriously? You've had about a million major life experiences. How am I supposed to learn all that before tonight?"

"We'd better get started then," Harry said. "You'll have to tell me what it's like growing up in your family's manor too. What sorts of places you've been. How long you've known Zabini, Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle. Things like that."

Draco nodded. It was the last thing he wanted to do, divulging all sorts of information to Harry Potter. But if people noticed that Harry didn't know anything about being Draco Malfoy, they'd think there was something seriously wrong with him.

The pair spent the next hour reluctantly exchanging information. Draco sat listening in disbelief of Harry's childhood. Harry thought Draco's highbrow pureblood experiences were equally appalling.

Somehow, Harry had gotten the nerve to ask the question that had been on his mind since the beginning of the term. Draco answered, but asked for a secret in return.

After a lull in the conversation, each sat contemplating the other's life thus far. Harry tried to stealthily roll up the left sleeve of his pajamas.

"What do you think you're doing Potter?" Draco hissed.

"I just wanted to . . ." He pushed the sleeve back into place. "Is it _really_ there?"

"Of course it's there. But you promised not to tell anyone. Just like I promised not to tell anyone what the prophecy really said."

Harry nodded. They each had information that could be used against the other, should they choose to.

"Okay," said Harry. "I won't look. Believe me, I don't _want_ to look at your body."

He noticed that Draco blushed slightly when he said that, and gasped.

"Did you . . . look at me?"

"I couldn't help it," Draco defended. "I don't have a bladder spell on me like you do. I'm expected to get up and go to the loo."

Harry covered his face, mortified. "This is intolerable."

"Agreed. We need to switch back, and right soon."

Just then, Hermione and Ron strolled in carrying two trays of food.

"Hello Harry," Hermione smiled. "How are you feeling?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak.

"A bit better thanks," Draco remembered to answer. "Did you bring me supper?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "And Malfoy," he sneered. "Only because Dumbledore made us," he said quietly.

Ron walked over to Harry. "Here." He practically shoved it at Harry.

"Oi, be careful Ron," Harry said.

Ron did a double take. "What did you call me?"

"Uh, I, I meant Weasel. I hit my head," Harry explained half heartedly.

"Pft. You must have, to call me by my name." Ron took up a chair next to Draco.

"Ron, Malfoy is pretty seriously injured. You could give him a break," Hermione said.

"As if," Ron snickered. "Right Harry? He got what he deserved."

Draco bit the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling at Ron. He simply nodded and began to eat.

"Look Harry, they had your favorite tonight. Treacle tart."

"I don't like treacle tart." Draco glanced at Harry nodding his head when he noticed the confused looks on Ron and Hermione's faces. "I love it," he chuckled, recovering. "But maybe I'll save it for later."

"Did Madam Pomfrey say when you'll be released?" asked Ron.

"No, not yet," Draco answered, keeping an eye on Harry to make sure he wasn't making any more missteps. "My back hurts. And my wrist."

"I brought some books," Hermione said.

"Oh, what kind?" Draco did enjoy reading.

"Text books of course. I thought you'd want to keep up on the reading assignments."

"Oh, well, I would, but I've been getting headaches," Draco lied.

Hermione picked up the Herbology book. "Then I'll read it to you," she said perkily.

"Um, I think I'll go to the library," Ron said. "Snape assigned a research paper and I can't afford to do lousy on it. I'll see you later."

"Bye Ron," Hermione waved.

"Yeah, bye Ron," Draco repeated.

"He actually thinks he's fooling me," Hermione said, a bit snippy. "I don't care if he does poorly on his paper. He'll probably come crawling to me for help the day before it's due anyway."

She opened the book and began to read. At first, Draco had to work very hard not to roll his eyes and make noises of discontent. But after a while, he found Hermione's voice soothing. She read aloud well, in a smooth, even tone. Not monotonous, yet not overly dramatic. Ultimately though, Draco's eyelids became heavy and he drifted off to sleep.

Hermione glanced up and smirked. "Well, at least you stayed awake longer than Ron," she said to herself. She looked over to Harry, whom she thought was Draco. He was also asleep. Quietly, she gathered up her books and left them to rest.


	2. truce or consequence

*** Thank you so much for the warm reception! It was nice to see familiar and new reviewers out there.**

**pashathepeddler- I laughed out loud**

**YinKeket- you do have the most unusual style of reviewing :)**

**thanks also to kjwatson2, achu13, Jedi Knight Kat, Bookwoman17NerdyMom, Magic Freak, Stardust of Orion and cassy1994 for reading and reviewing!**

* * *

"Good news, Harry," Madam Pomfrey said in a cheery voice. "You'll be getting out of here today."

The witch brought Harry's clothes to Draco with a smile.

"But, my wrist still sort of hurts," Draco told her in an attempt to prolong his stay in the hospital wing. He wanted to put off going to the Gryffindor dormitories as long as possible. Harry had filled him in on some personal information, but not enough to feel confident that he could pass for the Chosen One.

"I can give you a potion for that," she said. "It's healing nicely and there's really no need for you to stay here any longer. You must be anxious to get back to your own room. You're still exempt from classes for the next few days though, so don't worry about that."

Draco glanced across the room at Harry, still stuck in Draco's body. "What about him?"

Madam Pomfrey turned around and frowned. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I'm afraid he'll be here for at least a few more days. And then probably bedrest in his room for a bit more. He hit his head fairly hard and suffered a concussion. But don't you worry about him, Harry. I'm taking good care of him. Now go on and get dressed."

Draco got out of bed carrying Harry's clothing to the loo. His mind was racing with ways to avoid Harry's friends and dorm mates. Faking illness was probably out of the question, since the nurse would be able to tell. And he didn't know enough about mental illness to fake that.

Once dressed, trying not to peek at Harry's body, he approached Harry in his bed.

"Did you hear? She's making me go back to the dormitories today."

Harry nodded. "Just remember everything I told you."

"But it wasn't that much," Draco complained. "I don't think I can pass for you."

"If you confide in Ron that you're not up for socializing, he'll probably be able to fend off Hermione for you. And most everybody else doesn't question me. So if you say you want to be alone, or that you're not feeling well, they'll leave you alone."

It occurred to Draco that he'd been trying to come up with ways for himself to stay in the hospital. Harry was right. Most people didn't question Harry's motives or actions. Pomfrey, most likely, wouldn't be any different. She assumed Harry would want to get out of the hospital wing.

Just then, the nurse walked back into the room.

"All set Harry?" she smiled.

Draco stood and put his best downhearted expression on.

"Well, I'm dressed," he said. "But . . ." He was hoping the witch's curiosity would prod him to continue, making it seem like he was reluctant to say what he was about to say.

"What's wrong dear?" She put a hand on his shoulder, taking the bait.

"Nothing," he said quietly, taking the chance that she may dismiss him.

"Something's bothering you," Pomfrey frowned. "Tell me."

"Well, it's just that . . ." Draco played it up as much as possible. "Physically, I feel okay, I guess. My wrist still hurts a little. I _might_ be able to write with it. But . . ." he hesitated.

"But what?"

Draco looked briefly at Harry in the bed, then leaned closer to the matron and lowered his voice, as though he didn't want the other boy to hear.

"With all that's been going on with _Y__ou __K__now __W__ho, _I have nightmares. I don't sleep well and I always feel exhausted." It was exactly untrue. "And, well, since I've been sleeping here the past couple of nights, they haven't been so bad. I'm afraid they'll come back once I go back to the dormitories."

"Poor boy," she cried and clutched him to her ample chest, much to Draco's horror. "You've been through so much in your short life."

She released him with a sympathetic look.

"Would you like to stay here a bit longer?"

Draco nodded sorrowfully. "You wouldn't mind?" he whispered.

"Of course not. I understand completely. I'll inform your professors and have work sent here. I'm sure that you and Draco will be able to make up any practical work you miss."

"Can I . . . can I stay in my clothes?"

Madam Pomfrey had a warm smile for Draco, well, for Harry. Draco was certain that Draco Malfoy could not have gotten away with such a sob story. He gave Harry a sly smirk, proud of his cleverness.

As the nurse began to change the bed sheets on Draco's bed, he made another request of her. "Would it be terribly inconvenient if I took the bed next to Draco? Perhaps this would be a good opportunity for us to put aside our differences."

Her eyebrows rose as she looked at Harry lying there as Malfoy.

"You could take a lesson from this one," she said to Harry in a less than a cordial tone. "Try to be nice."

She left the boys alone to tend to other duties.

Draco sat on the edge of the bed next to Harry's.

Sitting up a bit, Harry gave Draco a look of empathy. "It's like that all the time, isn't it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"They way Madam Pomfrey treated you. I mean, me." Harry sighed. "This is so confusing. What I mean is, she was so nice to you when she thought you were me. And she wasn't so nice to me when she thought I was you."

"What did you expect?" Draco asked. "You're me. And people don't like me. You, they love. I could have done without the hug, though."

"Well, at least you've managed to buy yourself a little more time," Harry said. "We should take advantage of that."

The pair shared more information about themselves, each careful not to give away_ too_ much, but letting down their guard a bit.

"Tell me about your friends," Harry said. "What are they like? Aside from taking jabs at one another, I don't think I've ever really spoken to them."

"I knew Blaise and Theo before coming to Hogwarts. I almost went to Durmstrang, you know."

"No, I didn't know."

"Well, my father wanted me to go there, but Mother got her way. Anyway, Crabbe and Goyle's parents knew my parents and I could see when I met them that they were rather dense. It was easy to get them to do whatever I wanted. Throwing a few trinkets someone's way is a sure way to get what you want."

Harry snorted. "If they were really your friends, you wouldn't have to."

"Who said they were really my friends? Blaise and Theo are my friends. And Pansy, I suppose. Although, she's much more interested in having fun than anything else. Theo too."

"Blaise is in the Slug Club with me. He seems to be a good student," Harry commented.

"Yeah. But he got in the club because his mother's rich. Thought you would have figured out that Slughorn picks his favorites based on what he can get out of them, not the best students."

"Actually, I have, which is why I've avoided attending most of the gatherings. But I didn't know Blaise's family was wealthy."

"What about Granger and Weasley? I mean, I know she's supposedly some prodigy." Draco rolled his eyes. "But he's a clot. Why are you friends with him?"

Harry scowled. "He's not a clot. He's quite clever sometimes." He pursed his lips. "Sometimes I think being around Hermione so much just makes us look like a couple of dullards because she's so smart."

"She is a bit of a swot, eh?"

Harry nodded. "She'd rather do research and write an essay than go off for a butter beer at the Three Broomsticks. But you'll see, she'll be more successful than all of us put together someday."

Someday. Harry hoped there'd be a someday for them.

"Anyway, Ron talks about his family quite a bit, so I should probably fill you in on them. They're like family to me too."

"They're poor," Draco wrinkled his nose.

"It's true, they don't have a lot of money. But we always have a great time there."

"How can you have fun without money?"

"They have each other," Harry said as if it was obvious. "We play games, and talk. There are always several conversations going on at once. Arthur likes to hear me talk about muggle life. Molly cooks a lot, so we eat a lot. They're wonderful people."

A twinge of jealousy went through Draco. His own childhood had been rather solitary.

Draco was surprised to hear that there were more Weasley children than he thought. He didn't think he would ever be able to keep them straight, by name. Percy, whom he remembered from his days in the Inquisitorial Squad, Ginny, and of course Ron, would be easy to remember. But the rest of them, not so much. He remembered Fred and George but never knew their names. Feeling overwhelmed, Draco decided, that like Arthur, he was more curious about Harry's muggle life.

As Harry told more details, Draco was fascinated. He'd heard about the way muggles lived, but he'd never spoken to someone who actually lived as a muggle. The Slytherin had many questions.

Draco, in turn, shared more of the privileged life he'd lived. Harry hadn't expected to hear that it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. He didn't know there were so many rules of purebloods and high society that Draco was expected to follow. He wasn't nearly as free as Harry thought he was.

When the conversation turned a little darker, Harry felt he had no choice but to share his experiences with the Dark Lord. As the tale unfolded, the terror and fear was reflected in Draco's face. It was disconcerting to say the least, for Harry to see those expressions in his own eyes. He left out some details, such as seeing Draco's father in the graveyard when Cedric was killed. Though he suspected Draco knew his father's involvement, he saw no need to drive the point home.

In the end, each of them learned that they held many misconceptions about the other. Draco was dismayed in particular to find that he was beginning to feel a certain amount of empathy for Harry. He hated him. Or, he was _supposed_ to hate him. He was told that Harry stood in the way of his family's rise to power. But to hear Harry tell it, the Death Eaters were rather insane, most especially Voldemort. He couldn't disagree that his aunt was most definitely insane. And he knew about Greyback's ruthless nature. But surely, they were the exception, not the rule. The Malfoys would have power, and use it justly. Wouldn't they?

As a result of their conversations, Harry came to realize that Draco was very much just a pawn. Perhaps an expendable pawn. A fact the boy could not even begin to fathom. Harry suddenly didn't see him as a spoiled rich kid, but a stepping stone on which the Dark Lord would rise to dominance. A lamb blindly being lead to slaughter.

That night, Harry's sleep would be fitful, dreamless. Draco's filled with visions of Harry, the would-be hero, rising to demigod status for his efforts in the war.

Neither would see the other in the same way, come the morning.

hdhdhdhdhd

The sudden brightness as Madam Pomfrey opened the heavy curtains on the window woke Harry from the sleep he'd finally found just a few hours earlier.

Draco had already been awake and showered for the day. He sat on his bed studying the notes Hermione had copied for him. He smiled when he saw that Harry was awake.

"Morning."

Harry looked up. "Morning," he answered.

Frowning, Draco asked, "Are you all right? You look worse than you did yesterday."

"I didn't sleep so well," Harry replied. "I just want to go back to sleep."

"We've got to get you up out of that bed," Madam Pomfrey said as she appeared next to Harry. "A shower is in order. And I'm going to remove the bladder spell."

Draco watched curiously as the nurse attempted to rouse Harry into a state of wakefulness enough to get to the bathroom.

"Come on Mr. Malfoy, you have to help a little," she grumbled, trying to push Harry to the edge of the bed.

"Would you like some help?" Draco asked.

A grateful smile crossed the witch's lips.

He got out of bed and put and arm under Harry's to help lift him up.

"Get off me," Harry said half-heartedly. In truth, he needed the help. He felt a bit dizzy and he was exhausted from lack of sleep.

Between Draco and Madam Pomfrey, Harry was walked to the bathroom. He felt light-headed but stood on his own as the other two stood by.

He glanced at them. "Do you expect me to do this with the two of you watching?"

"Mr. Malfoy I'm a nurse. There's nothing I haven't seen before."

Harry didn't move.

"Fine," the witch said. "But I can't have you passing out and hitting your head again. Mr. Potter can stay and help you."

"But . . ." Draco began to protest.

"See that he doesn't hurt himself," she smiled at Draco. With that, Pomfrey left the boys alone in the bathroom.

"You don't have to stay Malfoy. I'll be all right." Harry wobbled a bit but caught himself on the edge of the sink.

"Right," Draco said. "And what happens when you fall and crack _my_ head open? You won't be the one that has to live with it. Trying to turn me loopy?"

Harry's shoulders slumped. Malfoy was right. Harry really wasn't up to taking a shower on his own. Perhaps he could just sponge himself off.

"Turn around then," Harry ordered. "I have to piss. That spell has finally worn off."

Chuckling and shaking his head, Draco did as requested.

"What do you do in a public loo, Potter? Do you ask everyone to look away?" he laughed.

Ignoring Malfoy, Harry relieved himself.

When Harry heard the water begin for the shower, he contemplated his options. He decided that even as Malfoy, he didn't want to feel dirty and smelly. A hot shower was sounding pretty good at the moment.

He shrugged off his modesty, along with his clothing and allowed Malfoy to help him. He stepped under the stream of water, guided by Malfoy's hand on his elbow.

"You hold onto the bar," Draco said. "_I__'__ll_ wash my hair."

Harry snorted, "Don't trust me with your precious hair?" He meant it to sound more sarcastic than he had the energy for.

Draco stood behind Harry, trying not to get wet. Silently, he poured shampoo into his palm. He paused a moment to consider the oddity of what he was about to do.

"I'm going to wash your hair now," he told Harry, as sort of a warning that he was going to touch him.

He massaged the hair as he normally would at first. When Harry winced in pain, he moved his fingers away from the healing gash in the back of his head.

"Sorry. I forgot," Draco apologized. He began to cup the water in his hands and run it over Harry's borrowed head.

"This is sort of strange," he commented. "I feel like I'm caring for a twin or something." He continued to rinse the blond hair. "I wonder what it would be like to have a twin."

Draco's voice was soothing, relaxing Harry in addition to the warm water.

"Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have a brother or a sister?"

Harry only hummed in response.

"I think I would have liked that," Draco went on. He took a flannel and rubbed a bit of soap on it. "I'm going to clean my back." He hesitated. "Is that all right?"

Harry nodded.

As he began to gently scrub the back and shoulders in front of him, Draco kept talking.

"I always thought it must be strange for the Weasel twins. You know, having another you around all the time. But it must be nice to have someone who understands you. Someone you can talk to, about anything." At that point, Draco had nearly forgotten to whom he was speaking. He was almost daydreaming to himself.

He rubbed the flannel under Harry's arms, not finding the whole thing as odd as he did at first.

"That's what friends are for," Harry said quietly. "Ron and Hermione are like my brother and sister. Much more so than Dudley ever was."

The mention of Harry's friends brought Draco out of his reverie. He cleared his throat as he became aware that it was actually Potter in his skin, and not an imaginary twin.

"The soapy water can run down and clean the rest of you."

The intimate moment was gone. Draco didn't think bathing another man could be so _un_-erotic, but it was. It was more like looking after a child. A child for whom he felt some tenderness. But how could he feel real tenderness for Potter after only a couple of days getting to really know him? Perhaps it was the honesty with which Potter seemed to speak. He hadn't been cocky about his victories over the dark side. On the contrary, he was rather humble. Draco had always had conflicted feeling about Harry, and this situation wasn't making things less complicated.

Draco brought Harry a towel, draping it over his shoulders.

"Thank you," Harry said softly. "I feel a lot better."

He still wouldn't look at Malfoy in his vulnerable, nude state, regardless of whose body it was, and therefore kept his back to him.

A clean pair of pajamas materialized on the edge of the sink.

"I'll leave you to dress," Draco said and left the bathroom.

When Harry emerged about ten minutes later, he looked much better than when he went in. Not quite so pale, his grey eyes were a little brighter. His blond hair slightly tousled from towel drying.

"Are you going to leave my hair like that?" Draco asked.

"Like what?"

Draco gestured, wriggling his fingers in the air. "It's all messy."

"I think it looks nice like this," Harry smiled, not realizing he just gave Malfoy a compliment. He made his way back to his bed and sat down. "What are you working on?"

Papers and books were spread out over Malfoy's bed.

"Granger came by while we were . . ." Draco couldn't think of a way to finish that sentence that wouldn't sound at least a little perverted. "More DADA work. I have to read two whole chapters of _Confronting the Faceless_. I swear Snape is doing it on purpose. All the other professors are going easy on us."

"And you still want to go to him with our, um, problem?"

"Yes. As soon as possible. Tomorrow?"

Harry sat up straighter. "Do you think Pomfrey will let me out of here tomorrow?"

"Not a chance. You could hardly take a piss by yourself. I meant for Snape to come here."

"Oh," Harry slumped. "Maybe we ought to see if he can come tonight. The sooner the better."

Draco nodded. He would ask Madam Pomfrey to get a message for Snape to visit under the guise of discussing missed work.

hdhdhdhdhd

Robes billowing and heels clicking, Professor Snape entered the hospital wing with his usual flourish.

"Thank you for coming professor," Pomfrey met him in the middle of the room. "The boys seemed rather insistent upon speaking with you. But I'll ask you to be brief as possible. They are both still healing and in need of rest."

Snape gave her a sneer and a condescending, "Of course." He walked to the end of Harry's bed and stood with hands on hips.

"What's this about Draco?"

"We need your help," Draco answered.

"I'm not talking to you, Potter!" was Snape's response.

The boys looked at each other. The unspoken decision was for Harry to address the issue. Snape wasn't remotely interested in listening to the other boy.

"If you can't handle the classwork, then perhaps-"

Harry cut him off. "It's not about class work. You heard about our fight, yeah?"

"The entire school knows about it. If it were up to me, you would both be in detention for the rest of the term. As it is, Dumbledore has decided that your injuries were punishment enough."

"Well, something happened. To us."

Snape stood waiting impatiently for Harry to elaborate.

"You see, we were throwing hexes back and forth, while trying to use Legilimency on each other. And I think my curse reboun-"

"You what!" Snape looked back and forth between the boys, scowling. "Where did you learn that Potter?" he questioned, glaring at Draco.

"Actually, I'm Draco," he replied, his voice cracking.

"Come again?"

"And I'm Harry."

"Merlin, you've both gone looney."

"No, we haven't Professor," Draco said. "I really am Draco. Ask me something Harry wouldn't know."

Narrowing his eyes, Snape quipped, "Well, that was your first mistake. Draco wouldn't call Potter by his given name. I don't know what sort of game you think you're playing."

Draco's mouth dropped open. He hadn't realized himself that he'd been referring to Harry that way.

"We've called a truce of sorts," Harry explained. "At least until we've got our own bodies back."

Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry, still skeptical of their story. He was trying figure out the prank when Draco spoke, from Harry's mouth.

"I'm supposed to do something." He glanced quickly at Harry. He hadn't divulged everything to Harry during their interrogations of one another. But he needed to convince Professor Snape that he really was Draco. He lowered his voice to barely a whisper. "I'm supposed to . . . kill someone. You know what I'm talking about."

Snape scoffed. "Yes, you think you can defeat the Dark Lord."

"No, I was ordered _by_ the Dark Lord. To kill . . ." Draco tugged Snape closer to ensure Harry wouldn't hear, and whispered, "The Headmaster."

Snape snapped to attention and looked between the boys.

"I told you we should have gone to Dumbledore," Harry groused.

"See?" Draco pointed. "I would never have said that."

"All right. Let's just say that the pair of you have switched your minds. How exactly would that have happened? Tell me precisely what happened."

"Well, he tried to hit me with a new hex," Draco began.

"I found him crying in the bathroom," said Harry. "I only went in to see what was going on."

"Liar! You barged in accusing me of all sorts of things." Draco turned to Snape. "So I hexed him, but I missed."

"And I tried to disarm him," added Harry. "We trades curses back and forth, destroying the bathroom."

"And then Potter was about to use something new on me. A hex that he didn't even know what it did."

"How do you know this?" Snape asked.

"I, uh, was using Legillimency on him. Trying to, anyway. Aunt Bellatrix was teaching me Occlumency. I asked her to teach me Legillimency too," Draco admitted. "But then he was trying to use it on me. I don't recall which spell I cast last. The next thing I knew, there was blinding light, from our wands, I think. I must have passed out right after that."

"What about you, Potter?" Snape turned to the boy occupying Draco's body. "What do you remember?"

"We did both attempt Legillimency on each other, but we were still throwing curses. I . . . I think I cast a Stupify. And Draco cast . . . don't remember."

"Are you certain? It could be important." Snape said.

"I'm not sure. I was casting at the same time. But I remember the light and feeling . . . confused, like I wasn't sure what I was even doing in the bathroom. Maybe it was Confundus."

Snape pursed his lips and stroked his chin. Neither boy said anything for fear of breaking his concentration.

"I'll have to do some research," he said, finally. "And if neither of you can recall what spell Draco used, we may have to make use of the Pensieve."

Snape began to pace, occasionally putting a finger to his mouth. As he appeared to be deep in thought, Harry and Draco remained silent. Suddenly, he stopped and faced the boys.

"All right, here's what's going to happen. The two of you will continue to pass yourselves off as one another while I figure out a way to right this mess. In the meantime, don't tell anyone, not even Dumbledore."

"But," protested Harry. "He could help."

"He has quite enough to worry about at the moment. He doesn't need another problem to deal with."

"Yes sir," Harry and Draco both replied.

Snape was about the leave, when he paused. "How badly are you injured?"

"Not too badly," answered Draco. "But I got Pomfrey to let me stay in here a little longer."

"And you?" Snape turned to Harry. "My head, or rather, Draco's head has a nasty gash, but the skin's beginning to heal. I think Madame Pomfrey said something about a concussion."

"Hm. Well, it would probably be best to wait to attempt to get you both back to normal- as normal as I suppose you could be-until all of your injuries are healed anyway. I have no idea how long it will take to come up with a solution."

With that, Snape left the infirmary, his robes flowing behind him.

Harry and Draco looked at one another, each wearing a look of disappointment.

"I was hoping he'd heard of something like this happening before and would know what to do," said Draco. "I guess there's not much we can do then."

"I wish I could tell Hermione at least," Harry said. "She's great at research. We'll just have to hope Snape comes up with something quickly."

"So, um, maybe you could tell me more about being you," Draco played with the hem of his bedsheets. "You know, for when I go back to the dormitories." He didn't want to admit that he just wanted to hear more about Harry's life.

"Okay." Harry sighed. "I think we've covered the basics about my family history and friends."

"Tell me more about the Dudleys."

"Dursleys," Harry laughed. "Dudley is my cousin. Let's see, did I tell you what I did to Aunt Marge?" He grinned.


	3. it was one kiss

***Thank you for the reviews! I know this can be confusing at times. Whenever I'm writing action or dialogue for Harry or Draco, it's them on the inside, but everyone else sees the other. I think the confusion comes when another character addresses them by the wrong name. Hopefully, it will all work somehow.**

**pashathepeddler and GaelicSakura- thanks for the feedback on Draco. It's not easy to make him vulnerable and a prick at the same time. I don't want to turn him into a hero, because he's not. But he's not all bad either.**

* * *

Draco sat on his hospital bed, elbows resting on his knees. "She's given me the boot. For real this time."

"You'll do fine," Harry said. "If anyone talks about stuff you don't know, just wing it. Or change the subject. Just remember to call them all by their first names. And if anyone brings up _You Know Who_, say you don't want to talk about it."

Draco nodded. He wished he could stay in the infirmary with Harry. _Like_ Harry, not _with_ Harry. He shook the thought from his head.

"Make sure you take care of my head, Potter. I'd like it to be in one piece when I get it back."

Harry gently shook his head. He knew it was too good to be true that they had actually been getting along for the past few days. He was even hoping he could somehow talk Draco out of siding with the Death Eaters. "I can shower by myself now, if you recall."

"That was only this morning. I had to help you the last few days."

"I'll only be here another day or two," Harry reminded him. "Madame Pomfrey said I'm healing nicely."

"Harry!" called Hermione. "Are you ready to go? Ron and I came to help you carry your things. Good thing one of us is in all of your classes to help your books until that wrist is completely healed."

"Yeah. Lucky that," Draco said, rolling his eyes behind her back.

Hermione glanced at Harry with an odd mix of sympathy and disdain on her face. As she, Ron, and Draco walked out of the infirmary, she whispered, "I wonder why he was hurt more severely than you."

"I guess my spell was stronger," Draco answered cockily. Then he realized that Harry's was really the stronger spell as it was Draco's body that took more damage.

"Did you use that spell you found in your Potions book?"

"What spell?"

"Harry, you know very well what spell. You've asked all of us if we'd heard of it. That book is bad news, and so are the spells written in it. I know Malfoy isn't exactly a pillar of society, but you could have killed him."

"Would you have felt badly about that?" Draco couldn't help asking.

"I think it would have been a terrible guilt for you to bear, even if he started the fight. It's bad enough everyone is expecting you to kill . . . _You Know Who_."

Draco stiffened. Logically, he knew she was speaking of Voldemort. No one but Professor Snape knew that Draco was supposed to kill Dumbledore.

Sensing his discomfort, Hermione pressed on. "I think you need to get rid of that book, and the temptation to use it."

"Not bloody likely," Ron said. "He's better at Potions than you now."

"Undeservedly so," she huffed.

Draco nodded. Harry had mentioned the old Potions book he had been using. He hadn't mentioned any new spells in it, merely that there were notes to help him win the Potions challenges. Draco was very much interested in having a look at it.

"All right," he said though, only because he thought Harry probably would have agreed with her.

"Oi, Harry's back," someone shouted when the trio walked into the common room.

There were pats on the back, and smiles, along with congratulations for giving Malfoy what for. He tried to smile back. It seemed the Gryffindors had an impromptu party for Harry's return. All Draco wanted to do was go back to his own room, in his own house, with his own friends.

Ron took Harry's things and started to carry them up to their room. "I'll take these up, Harry. You stay and have fun."

"Um, actually, I'm a bit tired," Draco said. "And I need to catch up on my classwork. I didn't get done as much as I wanted to in the infirmary."

Hermione beamed at his work ethic.

"Yeah, I'll bet Malfoy doesn't have to do a thing. Especially in Snape's class."

"Yeah, well I- _he_ has a bloody concussion, doesn't he?" Draco immediately shut his mouth. Perhaps he defended himself a little too vehemently. "And it's my fault," he added.

"You needn't feel too guilty Harry," Hermione said. "The pair of you shouldn't have been fighting at all. You were both at fault."

Ron rolled his eyes, then nudged Draco in the ribs. "But you got the best of him, eh. Come on then, let's go up to the room."

Harry had described the room and which bed was his, so Draco didn't miss a beat when he sat down. He glanced around. So much red and gold.

"I guess you're going to miss the Quidditch match, what with your wrist sprained," noted Ron. "Ginny is ready to take over as Seeker. She's not as good as you, but she's the next best thing. And that means Dean is back on the team as well. We still have a shot at the Cup."

Draco smiled in spite of himself, and Ron's words. In his mind, he was actually thinking that Gryffindor didn't have a chance without Harry. As much as he hated to admit it, Harry was a brilliant Seeker.

He heard Ron snicker from across the room.

"What?" asked Draco.

"I knew you were just putting on a show for Hermione. You have no intention of studying do you?"

"Not really. Snape is the only professor who's really expecting me to make up work."

"Then let's have a little celebration of our our. In honor of your release from the infirmary." Ron took out a small bottle of fire whiskey he had stashed in his trunk. "It must have been awful. Four days with only Malfoy for company." Ron shuddered.

Gritting his teeth to keep from saying something crude, Draco simply said, "It wasn't that bad."

"Liar."

"No, really. I mean, he was asleep for most of the first two days. And we managed to be civil."  
Ron raised an eyebrow, but kept quiet. He poured a shot of fire whiskey for each of them, then held his up to cheer.

Draco shrugged and clinked glasses with him before downing it in one gulp. There were worse things he could have been doing.

hdhdhdhdhd

The next morning, Draco woke from a surprisingly good night's sleep. At first disoriented, he remembered that he was in Gryffindor House, in Harry's bed.

"Blimey, Harry, you're not up yet?" Ron called as he walked into the room dressed in his Quidditich gear. "You're coming, aren't you?"

"What?"

"The Quidditich match. It's for the Cup. I know you can't play, but you're gonna come watch, yeah?"

"Oh, right." Draco rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Half nine, and I'm late. Gotta go. Wish us luck!" Ron yelled as he ran out of the room.

Draco sat for a few moments, realizing that all of Gryffindor must have gone and that he was alone. His joy was short lived. Of course there was no way Harry would miss such an important match. Draco had to go.

He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

On the other hand, what did Draco care if he made Harry look like a prat for not attending the match? He sighed. If he did, Harry would probably do something to make Draco look equally bad, if not worse.

No, he had to go. And he had to cheer for Gryffindor. Or at least pretend to.

The match itself was surprisingly high spirited. Ravenclaw, who'd been first in line for the Cup, fought hard and played brilliantly. However, they couldn't match a team who was playing for their fearless leader. Dean, though only back temporarily, scored more goals in the game than Katie and Demelza combined. And though Ron did get scored on quite a few times, the Ravenclaw Keeper couldn't hold a candle to him.

It was difficult for Draco to be unimpressed. Despite his hatred for the Gryffs in general, he got caught up in the sheer excitement of the game.

When Ginny caught the snitch, putting her team over the three hundred point margin they needed, the crowd erupted. Draco stood, clapping his hands along with them. Wait until he told Harry—

His smile dropped. He composed himself, giving himself a stern silent lecture about getting caught up in the Gryffindorks affairs. What did he care? For a brief moment, he had felt guilty that he was there to witness Harry's team victory, and Harry was not. But soon they would switch back to normal and Harry would go back to being Potter— his and Lord Voldemort's enemy.

In the common room, the celebration had started immediately. Loud music played while the Gryffindors frolicked about, drinking and hugging. The Quidditch players passed the large silver Cup to one another, some holding it over their head and shouting.

Ron tried to hand it to Draco.

"Come on, Harry. It's your victory too."

"But I didn't play. I had nothing to do with it," Draco replied.

"Bollocks. You've been the captain all year. Here, you deserve it."

Ron shoved the Cup at Draco, giving him little choice but to take it. He held it awkwardly, mainly due to the pain still in his wrist.

"I, I can't," he said. "My wrist."

"Oh, right. Sorry," Ron said sheepishly. He looked around. "Dean! Your turn."

The moment Draco felt some relief at Ron's absence, Ginny was suddenly striding toward him, grinning. She held out her arms and practically leapt into his arms. He reluctantly returned the hug. When they parted, they stared at one another, faces mere inches apart. After what seemed like ages for Draco, she leaned forward, her eyes fluttering shut.

Draco quickly turned his head and ducked away, leaving Ginny looking confused. "I thought . . ."

"I don't . . . I'm sorry. I can't," he said, and ran up the stairs to Harry's room.

Closing the door behind him, Draco flopped on Harry's bed.

"Yuck," he said aloud to himself. "She was going to fucking kiss me." He sat up. "Fuck. No. She was going to kiss Potter." Shaking his head, he muttered to himself, "I daw the line at snogging a Weasley. Especially that one."

A short time later, Ron, Neville and Seamus came to the room to find Draco reading.

"What happened to you Harry?" Neville asked. "You missed all the fun."

"I just wasn't up to it," answered Draco.

"It'll be supper soon. You coming down?" Ron questioned.

"Yeah, all right. I am a bit peckish."

"Peckish?" Seamus laughed. "You were hanging out with Malfoy too long, using such poncy words."

At supper, Draco nearly forgot himself and began to walk toward the Slytherin tables as they walked into the Great Hall. He sat down with Hermione, Ron and Ginny, as Harry always did.

At first, he didn't notice Ginny's melancholy mood. But then somebody else pointed it out.

"What's with the long face?" Ron nudged her. "We won the fucking Cup today."

"I know Ron." She glanced up at Draco.

"Then look like it." Ron shoved a large forkful of Shepherd's pie into his mouth. He was still grinning so much about the win that he could barely keep the food from falling out.

"Let it go Ron" advised Hermione. "Harry, can I talk to you a minute?"

"But, I'm still eating." Draco had been warned by Harry about Hermione's 'talks'.

She grabbed Draco by the arm and led him out of the hall.

"Ginny told me what happened."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I thought you liked her. The way you're always looking at her."

"Oh." That's what she was talking about. Draco _really_ didn't want to have this conversation. He felt at a bit of a disadvantage not knowing how Harry would handle the situation.

"I think Ron would be okay with it," Hermione said. "If that's what you're worried about."

"No. That's not it. I'm not afraid of We- Ron."

"Then what is it?" Hermione cocked her head. "Harry? If you think it's because she doesn't like you, I'm fairly certain she does. Even though she hasn't quite confided in me."

He tried hard to think of some elaborate reason why Harry didn't kiss Ginny, under what seemed to be perfect circumstances. He couldn't very well tell her the truth.

"Well, you were wrong. I don't like her. Not _that_ way, truth be told." That was the truth, for him at any rate.

"Oh. I see. My mistake then."

Draco hesitated. "Can I go back in and finish eating now?"

"Of course." Hermione gave a weak smile. She was just as confused as Ginny had been.

For the next couple of days, Draco avoided Ginny and Hermione, sticking mainly to Ron, who seemed oblivious of the entire situation. He thought he must have been in a sad state of affairs when Ron was his best option.

Draco had also been avoiding Harry. When word of his release came around, Draco knew he had to talk to him before he went to Slytherin.

hdhdhdhdhd

"Where the hell have you been?" Harry asked, the moment Draco came into view.

"Busy being you, for starters."

"I've been needing to talk to you. Parkinson and Zabini have been to see me, er, you, several times. Crabbe and Goyle, once. Do they ever go anywhere without the other?" Harry paused. "And some bloke called Harper has been here twice."

"Harper?"

"Madame Pomfrey's letting me out today."

"I know," Draco nodded, sitting down on his former bed. "That's why I'm here. To see if you are ready for Slytherin."

Harry shrugged. "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose. I heard about the Quidditch Cup. Did you see the match?"

"Yeah, well, I sort of had to. I couldn't think of a reason you wouldn't go."

Harry smiled. "I wish I could have been there. Was there a big party afterward?"

"I . . . didn't really stick around for it."

"Yeah, why the fuck would you?" Harry was feeling bitter that he missed the game and the celebration. "So, Pansy was talking about a few things I didn't know. You'll have to fill me in. Zabini doesn't talk much, does he?"

"Not when Pansy's around. She does most of the talking for everyone," Draco chuckled. Harry had to agree. But in his case, it was for the best.

"You seem to have quite a fan in this Harper character. He brought me supper with extra pudding."

"Forget about him. He's just a Fifth Year." Draco bit his lip. He could just _not_ tell Harry what happened with Ginny and let Harry take the brunt of it later. He wasn't about to apologize himself. Nor was he going to pretend to like the she-weasel for Harry's sake. But man to man, he figured he owed Harry the truth. For all he knew, Harry would be happy to have the girl off his case.

Draco cleared his throat. "Speaking of Fifth Years . . ."

"What? I don't like the tone of your voice."

"Well, um, one the Fifth Year Gryffindors sort of . . . tried to . . . um."

"Spit it out, will you?"

"Shit. All right. The weasel's sister tried to kiss me. Kiss you, actually."

"She did?" Harry perked up. "Fucking hell, I'm missing all the best parts of my life."

"Oh. Then, you would have wanted her to?" Draco picked at his nails.

"There's that tone again. What happened."

"It wasn't my fault. There was no way on this fucking green earth I was going to kiss a ginger haired traitor. Especially her."

Harry sat with his mouth hanging open. "What the hell did she ever do to you? It was _your_ father that put her life in danger with Tom Riddle's diary. You owe her."

"Then my father can kiss her. I'm not going to. I just thought I should warn you."

"About what?"

"She's pretty cheesed off about it I reckon. Giving me strange looks, somewhere between wanting to snog me and wanting to kill me. I've done a decent job of avoiding her. But I have a feeling eventually the shit's going to hit the fan. And by then, hopefully, it'll be you and not me that gets it. Oh, and by the way, she's back seeing that boy that played Chaser."

"Dean?" Harry looked thoroughly dejected. "It should have been _me_ she was going to kiss. She'd broken up with Dean. Maybe it's not too late. You could say you weren't up to it or something. Pretend she's a girl you _do_ want to kiss. Just close your bloody eyes for Christ's sake!"

Draco made a gagging sound. "Look, I didn't do it to fuck you up. I . . . I just couldn't do it. That's not how I'm wired."

"Well that's great. What other ways have you messed up my life?" Harry crossed his arms over his chest.

"I got you an Outstanding on your Herbology test."

Harry shrugged a shoulder. "Thanks, I guess," he said with little feeling.

"Do you really like her that much?" asked Draco, sounding somewhat disbelieving. "I mean, you must have loads of girls after you."

"Yeah, but . . . I mean, no, I don't. A few. But I've known Ginny as long as I've known Ron and Hermione. Not as well, mind you. We've gotten closer over the years, though. The four of us hang out together a lot. And if Ron and Hermione ever get past their stubbornness and admit their feelings for one another, we'd be two couples, ready made."

Draco had to laugh at that. "So, you like her because she's convenient?"

"No. When you put it that way it sounds stupid. She's brilliant, a great witch. And she's pretty."

"If you say so." Draco scratched at the back of his head. "It sort of sounds to me like you're talking yourself into it."

"I don't need to. She'd be a great match for me. The Weasleys are like family."

"Then wouldn't that make her more like your sister?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at Draco. "Your family is close to the Parkinsons. I suppose you're going to marry Pansy."

"No fucking way. She _is_ like a sister to me. Except I have the good sense to recognize that."

"You just don't like the Weasleys."

"No, I don't. But even if I did, I'd still think you were getting all worked up over nothing. You're sixteen years old. Too young to consider marriage." Draco paused, taking on a serious air. "We're not even guaranteed to see seventeen."

The pair sat silently until Madame Pomfrey walked into the room.

"Oh. Harry, are you escorting Mr. Malfoy to his room? I would have thought Mr. Zabini would be here."

"I came to see how he was doing," Draco said. "As long as I'm here, I'd be glad to take him."

Annoyed as he was at Draco, Harry allowed it so they could talk about some things on the way.

As they walked slowly, to accommodate Harry, he asked his questions, and Draco answered. Draco filled him in on more pureblood traditions Pansy had mentioned, and reluctantly gave Harry the password.

In the back of Harry's mind, he felt that he and Draco didn't get to finish their conversation about Ginny. Was Harry only interested in her because she was convenient? Being Ron's sister, and Hermione's good friend certainly were in her favor. It would be more difficult to bring in an outsider. When Ron dated Lavender, they hardly saw him. Neither Harry, nor Hermione was particularly fond of her. But that wasn't the _only_ reason for choosing Ginny. Was it?

"Potter, did you hear me?" Draco interrupted his thoughts.

"Sorry. What?"

"I asked if you remembered the password."

Harry nodded, said the password and stepped through the wall. Glancing back at Draco, he could see the look of envy on the boy's face. Like Harry, he just wanted to go to be in his own House.

Draco had previously described his room and which belongings he could touch and which were off limits. So, when Harry went to the room, he knew exactly what to do.

"Draco, you're back." Harper, the Fifth Year stood in front of him. "How are you feeling?"

"What are you doing in here? This isn't your room," Harry said.

"I came to offer my assistance."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I'll carry your books for you. And I can help you study. Or I can bring you supper if you don't feel up to going to the Great Hall. Or-"

"All right," Harry cut him off, if only to shut him up, even though Draco told him to forget the boy. "May as well put you to work," he mumbled.

"You won't regret it."

The thought of walking back up to go eat was a bit daunting, and Harry allowed Harper to fetch his supper that night. He felt kind of bad for taking advantage, but justified it by thinking Draco most definitely would have taken advantage. And Harry had to stay in character.

Luckily, Snape's office was nearby. He was interested to hear if the Dark Arts professor had made any progress. He decided he would inquire in the morning.

Harry was nearly dozing off when Harper brought in a tray with roasted duck, flavored rice and hot buns. He noticed that once again, there was extra pudding. Harry thought this boy must really be trying to win points with Draco.

The boy watched as Harry ate, making small talk and filling him in on the goings on in Slytherin while he was in the infirmary. Harry enjoyed the gossip, though he wasn't certain who everybody was.

Feeling grateful, Harry shared his pudding with the boy, who seemed overly excited by the gesture- much like a House Elf who received clothing. Harry shrugged it off.

Like Draco, Harry wasn't let off the hook for missed work by Snape. Though a bit behind, he was expected to read two chapters from the DADA book by the time he resumed classes. But he was feeling knackered from all the activity and didn't really care if he didn't read.

"I could read it to you," offered Harper. Without waiting for a response, he picked up the book and began to read aloud.

Harry settled back on the pillow and closed his eyes, listening. Before long, Harry had fallen asleep.

It was an odd dream that Harry had. There were images of the fight he had in the lavatory with Draco, who suddenly turned into Ginny. She was trying to hex him. But, no wait, it was Ron. He was yelling something about his sister. Suddenly the room filled with treacle tart and a puppy was licking his face. It nibbled at his neck, making him giggle. He opened his eyes and gasped.

Harper pulled back, away from Harry's neck.

"What are you doing?" asked Harry.

"Whatever you'll let me do," Harper replied.

Very much confused at first, Harry vaguely remembered what Draco said earlier about not wanting to kiss Ginny. He said he wasn't wired that way. And Harry wondered if Draco was wired in a way that made him want to kiss Harper instead.

"You're not pushing me away," Harper whispered.

Harry didn't know what to do or say to that. Draco gave him no hints about Harper whatsoever. If Draco was involved with Harper, Harry could get back at him by spurning the boy and ruining their relationship. On the other hand, Harry had told Draco to man up and just snog Ginny for him. Was he willing to do the same? Harry would be a hypocrite, if not. It was a dilemma.

"Draco?"

Of course, there was a third option. Perhaps Draco hadn't meant anything of the sort by saying he wasn't wired that way. Harry could ruin his whole reputation with one small gesture.

No, Harry wouldn't do that. It would only give Draco a reason to break their tentative truce and do the same to him.

"Draco?" Harper finally got Harry's attention. "Please don't leave me guessing. Are you going to let me kiss you this time? Last time you promised."

"I did?" Harry questioned. "What did I promise?" He was back to his original dilemma it seemed.

"You promised the next time we were alone, you'd let me kiss you. Don't you remember?"

Harry rubbed his head. "Not really. I said that? You're certain?"

"Yes. And we're alone. And I've been very patient. Because we haven't been alone together in a long time. And you promised."

A knot began to form in Harry's stomach as he made his decision. There was no mistaking that Draco had meant he was wired for boys. Harry wasn't sure if it was for this boy in particular, but apparently Draco had promised. Now Harry only had to decide if he wanted to get revenge, or if he was going to man up.

Unfortunately for Harry, he was a true Gryffindor. And he was too tired to fight it.

"All right," he sighed.

Harper's lips were on his instantaneously. Harry squirmed instinctively to get away. But Harper was looming over him, half pinning him in place. The kiss was hard, and mostly unpleasant. Thankfully, it was also short.

Pulling away, Harper looked at Harry and frowned. "I'm sorry. I can do better."

Before Harry could react, Harper's lips were again caressing his own. This time, however, Harper didn't seem to be intent on crushing Harry into the mattress. His lips, at times barely touching Harry's, glided over them, teasing. Harry never noticed Harper's hand move to tweak his nipple through the fabric of his shirt. Harry gasped, and when he did, Harper took advantage of the opening. His tongue sliding over Harry's was an odd sensation. It took all of Harry's effort to push him away finally.

"You didn't say anything about touching me there," Harry accused.

Harper grinned. "I couldn't help myself. You were delicious."

"Seriously?" Suddenly Blaise was standing in the room. "You've had an hour. You're still at it?"

Harry sat up, quickly scrambling away from Harper. It was a huge mistake that brought on a headache.

"You," Blaise pointed to Harper. "Out."

Wasting no time, Harper jumped off the bed, past Blaise.

"I'll come get you for breakfast tomorrow morning," he called to Harry.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Blaise asked as he unbuttoned his shirt to change into pajamas.

"I really don't know," Harry answered honestly. His head was swimming.

"Well, you must have hit your head pretty fucking hard to be snogging that little shit."

"I wasn't snogging him. It was one kiss." Though technically it was two. "And it wasn't even good."

_So apparently, Draco likes boys, and Blaise not only knows, but seems okay with it_, Harry thought.

Blaise chuckled. "Does this mean you've gotten over your little crush then?"

"What crush?"

"As if you don't know. There's a thin line between love and hate, mate. You've been walking it for a long time." Blaise pulled off his trousers to put on his pajama bottoms. "Can't say Harper would be my first choice for you but I suppose the pickings are slim around here."

Harry had no idea what to say. He wanted to know who Draco's secret crush was. How could he ask without sounding like an idiot?

Blaise continued. "At least Harper's gay. There's nothing more pathetic than seeing you pine away for a straight. But then again, Potter doesn't exactly have a way with the ladies," he chuckled. "Knox."

Thrown into darkness, Harry sat frozen in place. Did Blaise just imply that Malfoy had a crush on him, of all people? Sure, he'd hit his head pretty hard. But his hearing was fine. Zabini's words would keep him awake long after he heard Blaise snoring, and the other boys sneak in. Harry figured that while pretending to be Malfoy he'd get some information he would normally never find out. But what was he supposed to do with that little tidbit?


	4. his viewing pleasure

*** Ok, so I guess nobody really questioned Harry allowing Harper to kiss him. I was hoping it wouldn't be too out of character. (although, not to me, since I really think Harry was meant to be gay. JKR just doesn't have good gaydar) Don't worry though, eventually there will be Drarry**

**pashathepeddler- Thanks so much for the nice review. There isn't much interaction with Blaise in this chapter but there is more to come**

**B.I.D.S- if you're talking about Harry and Harper, you just may get your wish**

**GaelicSakura- but I love Drarry :D**

**hotflower901- dangers indeed**

**thanks also to the-scarlet-butterfly, littlefish96, and godric1 for reading and reviewing! It's almost as good as dark chocolate**

* * *

"Draco. Draco, wake up."

Harry felt something pushing on his shoulder.

"Draco."

It was Zabini's voice.

"Better get up and get dressed. Breakfast is soon."

Harry opened is eyes. He felt like shit. Another sleepless night. Between letting a boy kiss him, and finding out he's Malfoy's secret crush, Harry had difficulty falling asleep. Every time he did, some strange dream woke him up and started the cycle all over again.

A knock came on the door. Blaise answered it, letting Harper in.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully. "You look awful."

"Thanks," Harry said sarcastically. He didn't mind so much when Ron told him that, or even Hermione. But he didn't know these people. Then it dawned on him that he let that boy kiss him. And Blaise knew about it. He blushed.

"Are you okay? You look flushed," Harper commented.

"Fine," Harry grumbled. He carefully stood up and began to walk out.

"Here, let me help you," offered Harper.

"I can go to the fucking loo by myself."

As Harry relieved himself, he caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror. Draco looked back at him. He sighed.

"You certainly are playing the part well," he said to his reflection. "Five days as Malfoy, and you've snapped at everyone around you and had an inappropriate sexual encounter. And you've used the word fuck more times than I can fucking count."

After washing his hands, he found Malfoy's toothbrush and cleaned his teeth. The brush was easy to spot as it was the only sliver plated one on the shelf. He looked around for a flannel, and noticed the grey ones with an embroidered DM on them. While he dried his face, he wondered what Draco's dorm mates thought of all his pretentious belongings. Did they resent him, or envy him?

By the time Harry got back to Draco's room, everyone was gone. Feeling restless, he decided to get dressed and go down to breakfast. He found the most casual clothing Draco had in his possession and started to undress. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a full length mirror on the wall next to Draco's bed. He quickly unbutton the pajama top and threw it off. All he could do was stare at the arm in the mirror. For some reason, Harry had kept true to his word to Draco that he wouldn't look at it. Until then, that is. He looked down at the arm for a closer look, running his other hand over the skin. The Mark gave him the creeps.

Tearing his attention away from the Dark Mark, Harry removed he rest of his clothing. He took another peek in the mirror. Malfoy's skin was pale, like alabaster, and smooth as Harry ran his fingers over it. He wasn't muscular, but he wasn't too thin either. That didn't surprise Harry. Malfoy always wore well fitting, tailored clothes. What surprised him were the cock and bollocks hanging between his legs.

Though he'd obviously handled Draco's bits when using the loo and bathing, he'd been trying very hard not to notice them. It bothered him to note that Malfoy was a little more of a handful than Harry was. But maybe Malfoy's hands were just smaller.

Looking at the bits swinging slightly with his movements, Harry felt the tiniest bit of envy. Surrounded by impossibly shiny blond hair, the cock was pink and rosy. Harry chuckled lightly to himself, thinking that if a cock could ever possibly be feminine, this was it. Delicate, yet massive. He had another reason to hate the boy.

He put on the clothes he'd found and made his way down to the Great Hall. He glanced at the Gryffindor table, catching Malfoy's eye. The other boy nodded subtly. Harry figured he was probably relieved to know that his body was healed enough to venture out on its own.

Suddenly, Harry remembered that even though the other boy looked like Harry, he was really Draco underneath. Draco that had a crush on him. Harry blushed and looked away.

Pansy, Blaise, Theo, Crabbe and Goyle were all sitting clumped together at the near end of the Slytherin table. Pansy was the only one who waved to him. She scooted over to make room for him.

"Oh, Draco luv, I'm so glad you're feeling better."

"Thanks."

"Have a glass of pumpkin juice," she said, pouring it out. "You need to get your strength back."

"I still can't believe Potter got away without any sort of punishment," she pouted.

"He's Dumbledore's favorite," Crabbe said, allowing crumbs of food to dribble out of his mouth. "He never gets punished for anything. Right Malfoy?"

Underneath the table, Harry's fists were clenched.

"Actually, he couldn't play in the Quidditch match on Saturday because of his wrist, so, in a way, that was his punishment," said Harry.

"Yeah, but they won. What kind of punishment is that?" Goyle chimed in.

"But they won without _him_," Harry pointed out, feeling a bit sorry for himself. "Maybe he's not the great Seeker he thinks he is."

There were nods all around.

"You're a better Seeker than him anyway, Draco," Pansy purred. "If you had been able to play this year instead of Harper, Slytherin would have won."

Harry looked down the table to Harper. He hadn't been a very good Seeker. His only tactic seemed to be distracting the opposing Seeker by ramming into him. Though, Harry got him back by making him fumble the Snitch, and causing Slytherin to lose the match. The boy seemed so different around Draco though.

Food and dishes began to disappear, signaling the end of the meal. The students grumbled and reluctantly made their way to their first classes of the day. Harry was glad he could go back to his room. Draco's room. He dawdled long enough for Draco to catch up to him in the hallway.

"How's my head?" Draco whispered.

Startled, Harry gasped and turned. "It, It's nearly mended. I still get a bit dizzy occasionally."

"Why aren't you brushing my hair?"

"What?"

"My hair. You're still not wearing it right." Draco tried to smooth it out of Harry's, er, his eyes.

Uncomfortable with the contact, Harry swatted the hand away. "But I've gotten compliments on it. Everyone else likes it this way."

"Well, I don't. Run a brush through it for Merlin's sake." Draco started to walk away.

"Wait. Have you heard anything from Snape?"

"I spoke to him yesterday after class. He's still working on it. Says he's got some ideas."

"That's good."

"I've got to go," Draco said, then added. "By the way, your clothes are awful. They don't even fit properly."

Harry laughed. Of course Draco would complain about that. The halls were mostly cleared of students, so Harry made his way back down to Slytherin.

He tried to read, but it gave him a bit of a headache. And he wasn't really tired enough to nap. Though Draco forbade him to look under the clothing in his trunk, curiosity got the best of Harry.

Under the robes and abundance of black clothing, he found a few personal items, which was to be expected. There were a couple of vials of something Harry couldn't identify, a pair of ornate silver cufflinks, and a photograph of his parents. He also found a pouch full of galleons, a bottle of fire whiskey, which surprised Harry, and a stuffed dragon that was presumably a piece of childhood memorabilia. He supposed the vials could contain something sinister, but Harry suspected it was the stuffed toy that Draco didn't want him to see. Draco probably assumed Harry would steal the galleons, too.

Bored with looking through Draco's things, Harry decided to practice a bit with Malfoy's wand. It responded fairly well, but of course not as well as his own. He conjured a bowl and practiced the water producing spell the class had been learning that year. The wand worked well enough that he would be able to participate in class. He also tried to practice some nonverbal spells, but they proved more difficult without his own wand.

A knock came on the door as Harry tried to decide what to do next.

"Come in," he called.

It was Harper, carrying a tray with loads of food on it.

"I thought you might be hungry."

"Thanks," Harry smiled. "I am. But I could have gone for lunch myself."

"Now you don't have to," Harper said. He sat down on the bed, placing the tray between them. "I thought we could share."

"This looks like enough for four people," Harry chuckled. He picked up a bun and spread a bit of butter on it. "So, tell me about yourself, Harper."

The boy's eyebrows raised so high on his head, it was almost comical. "You want to know about . . . me?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"Oh. Okay." He paused. "Like what?"

Shrugging, Harry answered, "Anything you want to tell me. Where's your family from? Do you have brothers and sisters? What's your favorite class?"

Harper settled further onto the bed. No one in Slytherin seemed to give a shit about him much. Draco certainly never asked him personal questions before. He was very encouraged.

"Well, my mum and dad live in a wizarding village in Barnton. I'm the youngest of three, so I'm the last kid at home during summer break. My sister works at the Ministry. And my brother is a broom maker."

"And what do you hope to do after Hogwarts?"

"You mean if there _is_ an after Hogwarts."

Harry cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Harper leaned closer. "If _You Know Who_ wins, what's going to happen to the wizarding world? Maybe we'll all be slaves or something. Well, not you. You're in, aren't you?"

"You don't think he can be beaten?" questioned Harry.

"By a teenage boy who didn't even know he was a wizard until he few years ago? I doubt it. But we're Slytherin. We want the halfbloods and mudbloods out, don't we?"

"I hate that word," Harry muttered.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing." Harry shoved some chicken and ham pie into his mouth, chewing forcefully.

"You said you don't like the word mudblood. But you're a pureblood."

"Yeah, and you know what, Tom Riddle was a halfblood. His father was a muggle. And he's a right powerful wizard. So, he himself only proves that you don't have to be a pureblood to be a true wizard."

"Tom Riddle? Don't tell me you believe that rubbish."

Harry's mouth hung open. He shouldn't have been surprised that Voldemort's true identity wasn't advertised to his followers.

"It's not rubbish. It's true. He was a student here."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean he's the Dark Lord."

Harry didn't know if he should even try to convince Harper of the truth. Draco's father himself had possession of Tom Riddle's diary, knowing that a piece of Voldemort lived inside. Or at least, Lucius knew there was a connection.

"I know what I know," Harry said. "You're free to believe what you want."

Harper bit his lip. "I don't want him to win, either," he whispered.

"I didn't say that." Harry didn't want to completely break character.

"You didn't have to. I won't tell anyone. We've chosen our side already. I suppose we have to live with that now."

Gently placing his hand on Harper's arm, Harry tried to smile. "It's never too late to do the right thing. And if there's one thing I do know, it's that Harry will fight for _all_ of us."

hdhdhdhdhd

"I can't believe you beat me again, Harry," Ron pouted. "When did you get so good at wizard's chess?"

Draco knew he probably should not have tried his best, since Harry told him he wasn't very good at the game. But few in Slytherin were a challenge for him, and he wanted to see if he could best Weasley.

"Uh, you probably went easy on me without realizing it," Draco offered. Though, he didn't believe that to be true.

"Did either of you finish your essay for Arithmancy?" Hermione scolded them.

"It's a stupid class, Hermione. You're the only one who enjoys it," Ron rolled his eyes.

"What good is Arithmancy going to do us in the real world?" Draco chimed in.

"Yeah." Ron nodded.

Draco had to admit, he admired Ron's attitude toward academics. He wasn't nearly as much of a berk as Draco thought. Ron was simply more pragmatic about what was important to know for succeeding after he left Hogwarts. Draco learned that Ron, like Harry, wished to be an Auror. So, silly classes such as Arithmancy were extraneous. Ron wasn't about to put forth any unnecessary effort.

Hermione, on the other hand, was logical. And a rule follower to the end. It was in her nature to go above and beyond the requirements. To Draco's dismay, it meant she was constantly bothering him to do his work as well.

He watched while Ron and Hermione bickered about the merits of Arithmancy, and some other classes. He could see what Harry was talking about when he mentioned their stubbornness regarding their feelings. Draco was half expecting them to toss their things aside and snog passionately in the middle of their heated debate. Not that he was hoping for it. But it would have been better than seeing Weasley and that twit Lavender snogging all about the school.

It was suddenly quiet and Draco glanced up. The argument was apparently over, but no snogging.

Instead, Hermione leaned closer. "Has Dumbledore made any progress on the Horcruxes?"

"Horcruxes?" Draco repeated. What the devil was she talking about? "Um, no," he figured was the safest answer.

"And what about your Potions book?" she questioned.

"What about it?" Draco asked.

"Did you get rid of it yet?"

"No."

"And why should he, Hermione?" Ron butt in.

"Because, Ronald, it's cheating for one. And for two, what if Harry uses one of those new spells and it goes terribly wrong?"

New spells. Draco remembered that Harry was going to try something new on him in the bathroom, something Harry didn't even know what it was. It must have been written in his Potion book. He'd forgotten to look through the book more thoroughly when had the chance. The potion they made in class had a couple of notes written in the margin, but Draco was afraid to follow them, in case they were wrong.

"Harry wouldn't try and use a spell that recklessly, Hermione. He'd try them out on something that wasn't alive first. Right Harry?"

Draco nodded. But he knew Harry did try to use it recklessly. Perhaps Granger was right. It was a dangerous book.

"But . . ." Draco continued. "Maybe Hermione's right. It is like cheating if I haven't come up with a better way to make potions on my own. Maybe I ought to get rid of it before the temptation to use some those unknown spell is too great."

"But you said yourself that if it hadn't been for that book, you wouldn't have known how to save my life."

"But Slughorn was there, Ron. If Harry hadn't beaten him to it, I'm sure the professor would have saved your life," said Hermione. She turned to Draco. "I think you should definitely get rid of it. Someplace you, or anyone else, won't be able to find it." She paused. "Like the Room of Requirement."

That was it. Draco could hide the book from Harry the next time he went into the Room of Requirement. He was finished mending the vanishing cabinet. He only needed to test it out. It seemed Harry's days of excelling at Potions were coming to an end.

hdhdhdhdhd

The next day, Draco put on the cloak he had accidentally discovered in Harry's trunk. He'd heard of invisibility cloaks, but they were exceedingly rare. The mystery of how Potter never got caught wandering the school grounds had been solved.

He stood in front of the large expanse of wall, pacing and concentrating. He had two different reasons for wanting to get into the room that night, but he concentrated his effort on the vanishing cabinet.

When the door appeared, he quickly slipped in. Though he was anxious to test out the cabinet, he walked past it, looking for a proper place to hide the book. He wove through the maze of treasures and junk, spotting a plain looking cupboard. It looked like as good a place as any. When he opened it, he recoiled at the sight of the skeleton of a five legged creature. He tucked the book behind the cage the skeleton was in and closed the door to the cupboard. Potter would never find that book.

But would Draco be able to find it again, should he come looking? The book could prove to be useful. He found the bust of some unknown wizard and placed it atop the cupboard. He looked around. There were other busts of other wizards. Just to be sure, he picked up a tiara lying nearby and rested it on the bust on the cupboard.

He stood back. There. He should be able to find this spot again. but Potter would not, unless he told him. Draco shook his head. Why on earth would he tell Potter where he hid the book? Perhaps he was feeling just a tiny bit guilty for taking it away.

Under the cloak, Draco made his way back to the Gryffindor dormitory. He heard the sounds of snoring coming from the other beds. No one had even known he'd been gone. When he crawled into Harry's bed, he pulled the curtains closed and placed a sticking charm on them so they couldn't be opened.

As he did most nights when the others were asleep, Draco conjured a mirror at the top of the bed's canopy. Lying in the soft light of his wand, he gazed at Harry's image. The sight of intense green eyes gazing back at him made his belly flutter. He wished he didn't need Harry's damned glasses to see, though. Not that it mattered much. Even with his glasses, Harry was lovely.

Draco's hand wandered down Harry's body to cup the hardening cock. He always _tried_ to keep his hands off. But once they switched back, Draco would never again have the opportunity to watch Harry stroke himself off while enjoying the orgasm with him. He had to take advantage while he could.

He stripped down, admiring Harry's figure, so unlike his own. His skin was not pale and thin, but manly and well used. Harry had scars to prove his bravery. Small patches of dark hair covered the best parts, but not too much. Draco smiled and Harry smiled back.

Slowly, mirror Harry's hand gripped his cock and started to stroke. Draco let out a low moan. He quickly cast a _Silencio_, and continued to watch the mirror as Harry touched his nipple. In the unique position of voyeur as well as puppet master, Draco could make Harry do anything he wanted for his viewing pleasure. Draco decided he needed just a bit more that night.

Conjuring some lube, Draco spread his legs and drew his knees up. The sight of Harry's presumably virgin hole made his cock leak. One finger went in, then another. Draco couldn't wait for Harry's body to get used to it. He needed more. With a little more reach, he found the place he was looking for. While his fingers massaged, his other hand tugged roughly at his cock.

He didn't dare close his eyes. The best part was watching Harry's face as he came. As much as he wanted the feeling to last all night, the extra stimulation brought Draco to his end more quickly than previous nights, and he came hard with a cry of Harry's name.

It was wrong, what Draco had been doing with Harry's borrowed body, and he knew it. He couldn't help himself. Taking pleasure while he could was justified, he thought. He wasn't exaggerating when he told Harry they weren't guaranteed to see seventeen, even if Draco was due for a birthday soon. His mirror Harry may have been the closest thing to love Draco would ever feel.

Draco cleaned himself up, got rid of the conjured mirror and extinguished the light from his wand. As he did many nights that year, he cried himself to sleep.


	5. it's fun to have a secret

***thanks to everyone who put this on alert or in favorites!**

**Guest- Everyone knows about the fight, so that's definitely not why they're keeping the secret. If I'm putting myself in their places, I'm thinking that Draco's body (even if it's Harry inside) would be no more welcome in Gryffindor than Harry's body in Slytherin. Not to mention even more confusing for their friends. And if I were their friends, I might have a hard time trusting that Harry or Draco were really themselves once they switch back. Also, Draco alluded to the fact that everyone just might think they were a little nutty for saying they switched. They took a chance telling Snape. I think Snape's ulterior motive for keeping mum is to get the boys to see one another from a different perspective.**

**Mhmmmmm- It wasn't my idea. JKR made him broody and crying first.**

**HowlingRain- ha ha, I guess Harper is a little eager. But Draco is quite a catch ;)**

**pashathepeddler- oh,no, I don't want to come between you and your friends- or maybe you could all read it together!**

**thanks also to cassy1994 and witchravenfox for reading and reviewing!**

* * *

"I really appreciate you helping me catch up, Harper," Harry said, putting his books on the floor next to the bed.

"My pleasure," the boy replied with a smile.

Harry felt guilty leading him on to get his help. He knew in the back of his mind that Harper was expecting to get something out of it. That would be Draco's problem. Truthfully, if Draco was into boys, Harry couldn't understand why he wasn't into this one. Harper was usually cheerful and willing to do anything Harry wanted. Actually, Harry wondered how he'd been sorted into Slytherin in the first place.

"Are you sure you're ready to go back to classes tomorrow, Draco?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. I'm feeling much better now. Madame Pomfrey checked me out earlier today and gave me the all right. I'm just not supposed to overdo it."

"I'll be happy to carry your things for you."

Harry smiled. "I know you would. But I think I can handle it. My satchel isn't that heavy." He rubbed his forehead.

"Does your head hurt?"

"A little. It's okay."

Without being asked, Harper began to rub Harry's temples with his thumbs. Harry closed his eyes and let him. He hadn't realized how tired he was until that moment. Slowly, he relaxed against his pillow and let his eyes close. When Harper's fingers moved in small circles against his scalp, he let out a small moan.

"That's good," Harry whispered. "Thank you." He blindly reached out and rubbed Harper's knee when he made contact.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Harper asked softly.

"You're being nice to me," replied Harry. "Isn't that how it works?"

"You were never nice to me before."

"Oh."

"Not that I'm complaining. I'm happy you're spending time with me now. I was just wondering," Harper paused. "When are you going to let me kiss you again?"

"Uh, I don't know," answered Harry in his drowsy state.

After a bit more of gentle massage, Harry felt lips brush over his. At first he thought he'd imagined it, it was so light. Then they were back. Logically, Harry knew it was Harper, but if he kept his eyes closed, he could imagine it was anybody. It was better than the kiss he'd shared with Cho. He wondered if kissing Ginny would be like this.

Then, the lips were gone, and so were the hands.

Harry opened his eyes to find Harper looking unsure of himself.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry.

"Do you want me here? I mean, you're letting me stay, but do you really want me here?"

"Yeah, why not? You've been more helpful to me than anyone else," Harry smiled.

"I know. Is that the only reason?"

Harry cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Harper looked down as he played with the edges of Draco's duvet cover. "You're letting me stay. And you're letting me kiss you. And you _seem_ to like me."

"But?" Perhaps Harry wasn't playing the role of Draco quite as well as he thought he was.

"I don't mean to complain. Really I don't. But letting me kiss you isn't the same as you kissing me. You've never once tried to kiss me. Don't you want to?"

Harry understood. He'd allowed himself to be a passive participant. Harper obviously noticed, and was hoping for more. If Harry was going to let Harper down easy, this was the perfect opportunity. There was lots of reasons for Harry to end what he hadn't meant to start in the first place. Boys weren't supposed to kiss boys. At least that was what he'd always heard growing up with the Dursleys. And, Draco hadn't even asked him to get involved with Harper. Not to mention, once he and Draco switched back, Draco would probably end it anyway. Harry was certain that he would go about it more gently than Draco would.

Yes, Harry could think of many reasons _not_ to kiss Harper. Despite them, he found himself leaning forward. Because the one reason he could think of in favor of Harper seemed to outweigh those against. He liked it.

He liked the feeling of lips on his. He liked the gentle touches that went along with it. And he liked that it all came without the pressure of being the Boy Who Lived. Harry could be himself. He realized that Harper thought he was Draco, but Harry always relaxed a bit when he was alone with Harper. He was a little more himself. The poor boy was going to be in for a shock when Draco returned to his body.

The moment Harry committed, the kiss was better than any he'd ever had. Not that he'd had so many.

Harper moaned and pressed his body into Harry's. Harry wasn't exactly surprised to feel the hardness digging into his hip. He _was_ surprised to feel the tightness of his own trousers. That was something he wasn't quite ready to acknowledge.

They snogged for what seemed like hours on Draco's bed, until Theo and Blaise walked in on them.

"You could at least draw the curtains if you're going to do that," muttered Theo.

"Oh, shit." Harry sat up and moved away. "Sorry."

"I'd better get back to my room anyway," grinned Harper. He didn't appear the least bit ashamed. In fact, he appeared quite proud. He gave Harry another quick kiss before getting up. "I'll come get you for breakfast."

"You've been coming in every fucking morning. I don't think you need to announce it anymore," said Blaise.

Harper bounced out of the room, leaving Harry to deal with Draco's friends.

Harry sighed. "Well, what do you have to say about it?"

Both Blaise and Theo shrugged. "Just remember to close the curtains and put up a silencing spell like everybody else," Blaise added.

"Okay," Harry nodded.

Crabbe and Goyle came in then. "Lights out," Crabbe announced.

The boys all quickly readied for bed, and the lights went out. Harry drew his curtains, and lay awake thinking of the evenings events. It was disconcerting how much he enjoyed snogging Harper. It was disconcerting how much he enjoyed spending time with the boy. He couldn't understand why Draco wasn't interested in him. Harper was nice, and thoughtful, and had a pleasing disposition, despite Harry's original opinion of him. It was hard to believe he was the same boy who played Quidditch against him so ruthlessly, and insulted Ron.

But when he looked at Harry with deep brown eyes, Harry could believe he had real feelings for him. Feelings for Draco. Harry had to remind himself of that.

At the moment, however, all he thought about were soft, full lips and the way his cock tingled and twitched at the memory. He hadn't wanked since well before his fight with Malfoy in the lavatory. After being denied relief while snogging Harper, and now, with his cock coming back to life, he was desperate to wank. He'd have to do it using Malfoy's cock.

Slipping Malfoy's wand from beneath the pillow, Harry cast a Silencio. He pulled down his pajama bottoms and wrapped his hand around Malfoy's cock. It didn't seem that much larger than when it was flaccid, but it was hard, stiffly jutting straight up as he lay on his back. Harry was glad it was dark so he couldn't see it as he stroked up and down the length, shuddering with pleasure.

Quickening the pace to get it done, Harry tugged wildly until a sudden burst of semen shot out onto his stomach. The orgasm seemed to come without warning, making Harry cry out at the unexpected intensity. Grateful that he remembered a silencing spell, Harry panted his way back to a relaxed state.

He lay there, sticky and satisfied for a few minutes before casting a Scourgify. He pulled up the pajamas and slid the wand back under the pillow. Before swiftly drifting off to sleep, he briefly wondered if Malfoy had also wanked at any point.

hdhdhdhdhd

In the morning, Harry cornered Zabini and Nott alone before breakfast.

"Listen, could you not mention anything about Harper to anyone?"

Nott laughed. "What's the matter Malfoy? Don't want anyone to know you fancy blokes? A little late for that."

"No, it's not that. It's none of anyone's business is all."

"You're going to try to keep your boy toy a secret from Crabbe and Goyle?" asked Blaise. "What about Pansy? You know she has to know everything."

"You two are the only ones who know about him. I want to keep it that way." Then Harry realized that Draco wouldn't have asked nicely, he would have threatened. "And if you tell, you just might find yourselves on the receiving end of a bat-bogey hex."

Blaise and Theo laughed.

"Think that's funny?" Harry questioned, taking out his wand. "How about a Cruciatus then?" He raised the wand in their direction.

"All right, all right, Malfoy. We won't say anything." Theo had backed up a few steps, his hands up in supplication.

"Merlin, Draco," Blaise frowned. "You don't need to make threats. We'll keep mum."

"Good." Harry put away the wand and stood up straight, trying his best to look haughty, the way he thought Draco would. Blaise and Theo took Harry's threat seriously. Perhaps Draco treated them that way all the time. Or maybe he'd made good on those threats occasionally.

As if on cue, Harper knocked on the door. Blaise looked at Harry and pretend to zipper his mouth shut before walking out.

"Ready for breakfast?" Harper asked.

"Yeah, but first I want to talk to you." Harry led him to the bed and sat down.

"What is it?"

"I . . . I'm not quite sure how to say this so you won't take it the wrong way," Harry began. "I'd like to keep things private between you and me."

"Private? As in, not tell anyone else?"

Harry nodded. "Obviously, Blaise and Theo know. They saw us last night. But I don't want anyone else to know."

"Why not?"

Quickly coming up with an excuse, Harry smiled. "Isn't it sort of fun to have a secret?"

"I suppose. But I want everyone to know who I've snagged. Everyone will be terribly jealous of me."

"Yes, they will." Harry inwardly cringed at his feigned arrogance. "And I don't want them to treat you badly because of it."

Harper grinned. "You do care."

"So, we'll have to act like we're only friends, or even acquaintances in public. And we'll only be able to be together here, when the other fellows are out."

"Oh," Harper pouted. "That won't be very often, will it?"

"Probably not. Can you live with that?"

"I guess so." He glanced around. "No one's here now."

Harper leaned forward and kissed Harry, who eagerly kissed back. When the younger boy began to push him down onto his back, Harry broke the kiss.

"We've got to go up to breakfast. Classes start in forty-five minutes. It wouldn't do to walk into the Great Hall with boners."

Harper laughed. "All right. Tonight then?"

Harry nodded once, then stood. "Let's go."

When they reached the entrance to the Great Hall, Harry reminded him to keep his distance. They parted ways, with Harry taking a seat next to Blaise, across from Pansy and Theo.

While they ate, and Pansy gossiped, Harry looked over to Gryffindor. He missed Ron and Hermione. He missed the warmth of his House. A twinge of jealousy went through him when he saw Draco laughing with his friends. Down the bench, Ginny was sitting next to Dean. His arm was around her and she appeared quite content. She didn't glance down at Draco once.

_I guess Ginny didn__'__t like me so much after all_, he thought. _Not if she__'__s well over it this quickly._

He didn't want to admit that perhaps Draco was right about Ginny being more like a sister to him. Like Hermione. He briefly wondered why he never felt special feelings for her beyond friendship. They seemed a better match than she and Ron would be. But he never did. And more than one person had thought he and Hermione were an item at some point. He thought about his one disastrous date with Cho, and remembered that he didn't want to be forced to kiss her in public. Harry thought he liked her, but he had no idea what to do with her.

Feeling as though someone was watching him, Harry gazed down the Slytherin table to find Harper looking his way. The tiniest of smiles graced his face, which Harry couldn't help return. He may not have known how to behave with Cho, but he knew what to do with Harper. When he looked back toward Gryffindor, the other Harry was glaring at him.

"Oi, what's Potter's problem?" Apparently, Blaise had noticed as well.

"How the fuck should I know?" Harry really didn't know. It could be any number of things. Ron or Hermione could have referred to Malfoy as ferret. Or they could have said something disparaging about Slytherin. He couldn't possibly guess.

Snape seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"A word . . . Draco."

"Yes sir," Harry gulped. Snape did not look happy. Then Harry remembered that Snape never looked happy.

He followed the billowing trail outside the Hall, nervous about what the DADA professor had to say.

"I'll get to the point, Potter," Snape said as soon as the cleared the door. "I believe I've found the solution to your problem."

"That's great, Professor."

"Which, I remind you, I wouldn't have had to find if you hadn't gone and done something so stupid . . . in the first place."

"Yes sir." Harry lowered his head.

"You and Draco are to meet me in my office Sunday afternoon at precisely two o'clock."

"Why not before then? It's only Thursday."

"Because that is when I _told_ you to meet me," Snape bellowed. "Make sure you bring his wand."

Snape turned on his heel and left without another word. Students began streaming out, bumping into Harry until he moved out of the way. He spotted Draco and swept him from the crowd as he walked by.

"What do you think you're doing?" Malfoy asked.

Ron had his wand out and pointed at Harry.

"I only want to talk. You can put away your wand, Ro- Weasley." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Go on Ron. I'll be fine," Draco said, not missing a beat.

Harry and Draco moved off to the side, away from curious eyes.

"Did Snape talk to you?" asked Harry.

"Yes, of course. Did you think he would tell _you_ before he told me?"

"Why do we have to wait until Sunday? He wouldn't tell me that," said Harry.

"He told me it was tricky business and he wanted to be sure. He needed to practice the technique first."

"Practice? On who?"

"Whom," Draco corrected. "I didn't ask. I assumed on animals or something."

Harry's brow furrowed. "How is he going to tell if animals think they're-"

"I don't bloody know!" Draco yelled. "It's not our problem. We've got other things to worry about."

"Why are you so angry with me? I saw you glaring at me earlier."

Draco crossed his arms over his chest. "I wasn't glaring. I was just . . . I'm ready to go back to my life. With my own friends. I can't stand Gryffindor. I don't fit in, and your friends keep questioning me, especially Granger. Slytherin must be eating you alive."

"Oh, well, it's not going too badly," Harry told him. "But then, I haven't been there as long as you've been in my House. And I have been able to get away with being in the room alone. Or, mostly alone. Your roommates have actually been . . . quite amenable."

"Sorry? Are we talking about _my_ roommates?"

"You know, if you were a little nicer to them, they'd probably be nicer to you."

"What the fuck do you know about it?" grumbled Draco. "You have no idea what it's really like to be me. You have no idea the pressures I have."

"Pressures _you_ have? What about me? I have to find a way to defeat You Know Who."

"Well, I have to kill—" Draco stopped himself before he said too much. He and Harry hadn't shared everything obviously.

"What?"

"Nothing. We just have to get through the next couple of days."

Harry nodded. "Are you okay?"

"Why are you asking me that?" Draco sneered.

"Because you seem upset. And what you said." Harry bit his lip. "I could help you. When we get back to normal, maybe I could help you. Or Dumbledore."

"No. No one can help me. Stop thinking we're friends, Potter. When this is all over, we'll still be on opposite sides of this war."

"But Snape switched sides. You can too," suggested Harry.

"You think so," Draco laughed humorlessly. "You don't know anything."

"I know what it's like to be forced to do something you don't want to do," said Harry quietly.

For a moment, Draco looked as though he had something to say. Harry thought he might take Harry up on his offer. Then Draco's expression hardened.

"Don't fuck my life up before Sunday, Potter."

He promptly turned and left. Harry began to walk down the staircase. Waiting for him just outside the Slytherin entrance was Harper.

"Why were you talking to Potter?" he asked.

Harry shrugged, not being able to come up with a reason.

"Did it have anything to do with Snape pulling you from breakfast?"

"Oh, yeah, he just wants to make sure we don't have another hexing contest in the lavatory. He forced us to make a truce."

"Oh. We've only got a couple of minutes to get to class. Let's get your things."

"I can handle it Harper. I'm okay. Really."

Harper pouted a bit.

"I'll still see you later though, yeah?" Harry smiled. "Now, go on to your class."

Harper grinned, practically skipping up the steps. Harry had to quickly get his things, then make his way up to Charms. He hoped Flitwick would be understanding if he was late.

hdhdhdhdhd

Harry was tired after a full day of classes, but he was glad to get back to some semblance of normal. He'd forgotten himself a couple of times and spoke to Ron or Hermione. He chuckled to himself, thinking that they probably thought Draco was going barmy.

Supper time went much the same way as breakfast and lunch. Pansy did most of the talking, and Harry kept stealing glances down the table toward Harper. He caught Draco glaring at him again. He also noticed that he was looking in the same direction Harry had been. Maybe he was trying to figure out who Harry kept glancing at. For the remainder of supper, Harry didn't look at Draco or Harper.

The Slytherin Sixth and Seventh Years were planning a party in the common room the following night, which was Friday. Everyone was expected to contribute some sort of food or drink. First through Third Years were to be banished to their rooms, so many of them were planning their own get togethers.

"I have a bottle of fire whiskey," Harry offered, though technically it was Draco's.

Blaise raised his eyebrows. "_You__'__re_ going to contribute?"

"Yeah, why not?"

Crabbe scoffed. "Cause you always make me or Greg put in your share."

"Well, I happen to have a bottle this time," Harry said. Draco was probably going to kill him.

"Good," said Goyle. "Mum sent some snacks in a care package this week. So, I'll bring those."

Blaise chimed in. "Theo and I will sneak out to Hogsmeade and pick up some butter beer."

"Ooh, stop at Honeydukes for some cauldron cakes," Pansy smiled. "I'll give you some money."

"And some treacle fudge," added Harry. He'd have to find a way to get money from his room. He'd borrow from Draco if he had to, but he would rather not.

"I thought you hated treacle," commented Blaise.

"Yeah, you don't usually eats sweets," Vincent said, shoving a biscuit into his mouth whole.

"A person can change his mind, can't he?" Harry tried to sound indignant, the way Malfoy often would.

"You've been changing your mind a lot lately," Goyle pointed out.

Crabbe snickered. "Not so much changing his mind as chickening out."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry demanded.

"What was the real reason you couldn't play Quidditch this year, Malfoy?" Crabb teased. "You said you were too ill to play. Are you faking this time too?"

Harry stood up, resting his hands on his hips. "Shut the fuck up, Crabbe."

Crabbe stood slowly, defiantly. "You gonna make me? Your daddy won't be able to help you."

"Stop it boys," Pansy chastised. "Clearly Draco's been injured badly, Vincent. Madame Pomfrey wouldn't have kept him in the infirmary so long otherwise."

Harry and Crabbe glared at one another, still standing.

"How about if _I_ make you shut the fuck up?" Theo said to Vincent.

"Whatever," Crabbe replied, and sat back down to eat some more pudding.

Harry, however, didn't feel like eating anymore and left without another word.

He was confused as he walked back to the dungeons. He thought Crabbe and Goyle were just peons that did whatever Draco told them. Obviously, there was some tension between them.


	6. slip of the tongue

***not really much to preface this with**

**ReedSuckingNinjaClarinetist- ask, and ye shall receive . . .**

**HowlingRain &amp; cassy1994- Now you both know Snape is too good to fuck up that badly lol**

**thanks also to Magic Freak and sjrodgers23 for reading and reviewing!**

* * *

Friday afternoon, Harry had been trying to get Draco's attention. But the other boy ignored him in Transfiguration class, and at lunch. Harry had no choice but to boldly walk up to him in the hallway before he had a chance to duck into Gryffindor.

"Dr- um, Potter!" he called out.

Several students paused, half expecting a fight to break out.

Draco sighed, slumped and turned around. "What is it?"

"I need to talk to you."

Draco looked around, noticing the attention from other students.

"What are you looking at? Go about your business." He shooed them with his hands.

Harry waved him over and stood behind a rather large pillar for a bit of privacy.

"What do you want?" Draco asked. "Is everything all right?"

"That's what I wanted to ask you."

"Why?"

"Well, things are starting to get weird, especially with Crabbe. He accused you of faking illness to avoid playing Quidditch. Is that true?"

"You're going to listen to what that oaf says?" Draco sneered.

"He did it in front of everybody at supper, though."

Draco rubbed at his bottom lip. "He's been getting bolder all year. I'll be able to put him back in his place after we switch. Anything else?"

Harry wanted to tell him about Harper, but he didn't know how Draco would react. Instead he casually mentioned him to see if Draco would give a hint as to how he felt about the boy.

"Everything else is mostly going fine. I haven't screwed up your grades. And Blaise and Theo leave me alone for the most part. Harper comes to visit a lot."

Harry bit his lip and waited for a response.

Laughing, Draco shook his head. "You think I give a shit about my grades? I have bigger things to worry about."

"Like what?" Harry asked.

"You think I can tell you? We're not friends, Potter. Remember? I'm in this alone."

"You don't have to be," Harry told him.

"I may look like you. But I can't have what you have. All of this is only temporary."

"That's not true. You can. In fact, there's someone who cares very much for-"

"Oi, Malfoy, what do you want now?" Ron was making his way down the staircase.

"Leave us alone, Ron. We're having a private conversation," said Harry.

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Ron? You must have really knocked your head out of whack." He tugged on Draco's arm. "Come on, Harry. McGonagall gave us permission to go to Hogsmeade for supper. But we have to study first." Ron laughed. "Those are Hermione's orders, not McGonagall's.

"You're going to Hogsmeade with them?" Harry asked softly. He was suddenly more jealous than ever. While Draco's friends seemed content to leave Harry be, Harry's friends had taken in Draco as though he was really Harry. Then he remembered that soon they would switch places, and he felt more sorry for Draco than he ever had.

With Ron standing, listening in, Harry couldn't ask for some of his money, or pursue the subject of Harper. He let it go.

"Go with your own friends, Malfoy," Ron taunted. "If you've got any."

Draco glanced back as Ron whisked him away. He appeared genuinely remorseful.

Before sneaking out, Blaise and Theo took money and requests from several Slytherin students, including Harry. He didn't care that they questioned his sudden interest in sweets. He felt depressed and needed something to lift his spirits. A box of treacle fudge and a couple of shots of fire whiskey should have done the trick nicely. And maybe a few items for later.

As he handed Blaise the money, he asked why they didn't simply ask permission instead of taking a chance on sneaking out. Blaise laughed and shook his head. Harry figured it was just the Slytherin way.

Later, at the party, Harry had only one shot of fire whiskey. But it was enough. He was relaxed without impairing his thought processes. There was music playing and an abundance of food and drink. Harry wondered how they all got so much. His head was feeling all right, so he danced a little with Pansy. Others joined in, trading partners. There was much bumping and grinding, and nobody seemed to care what the gender of their partner happened to be. He supposed that was why Blaise took Draco's homosexuality in stride. They all seemed to be a bit bisexual. Or _any_ sexual. He saw Theo try to put the moves on Pansy, but she playfully pushed him away, instead grabbing Daphne Greengrass by the waist and swaying in time with the music. Even Millicent Bulstrode was being accosted by Vaisey, the Quidditch team chaser. It was the most fun Harry'd had as Malfoy. Except perhaps for kissing Harper.

He looked around for him and saw him pouring a glass of pumpkin juice. Harper subtly nodded for Harry to join him.

"Having a good time?" Harry asked, pouring himself a glass.

"Yeah," replied Harper. "Wanna have a better time?"

Harry grinned. Unfortunately, he noticed Blaise bringing a girl to their room earlier, and they hadn't reappeared yet.

"Meet me out in the hallway," Harper whispered. "Wait couple of minutes, then come out. Okay?"

"All right. Where are we going?"

"You'll find out," Harper winked.

Harry watched as Harper slowly made his way toward the entrance, then slip out. Butterflies started in Harry's stomach. It wasn't as if he'd never snuck out of his dormitory after hours before. But he'd never snuck out to do what he thought they were going to do.

He glanced around to make sure no one was watching him. They were all too busy anyway.

Immediately upon stepping through the entrance, Harry was grabbed by the arm.

"Come on. This way."

They snuck up the stairs where Harper led him to the broom cupboard.

"What are we doing in here?' asked Harry.

"Snogging," grinned Harper. He locked the door, cast a silencing spell and pushed Harry up against the wall.

They kissed and groped furiously at first, then slowed to a more leisurely pace. Harper's hands pulled Harry's shirt free so he could slip them under the fabric. A tweak of his nipples made Harry gasp loudly.

Harper giggled into Harry's open mouth.

"You like that, don't you?"

"I thought only girls liked that," Harry panted. "No one's ever done that to me but you." He gently pushed Harper back. "In fact, no one's really done any of the things you've done."

"You've never kissed anyone before me?" Harper was in disbelief.

"Just one," admitted Harry. "But not a . . . not a boy. I thought I liked girls."

"Maybe you like both," Harper suggested.

"I didn't know before that it was possible to like both. Then I watched everyone at the party."

Harper chuckled. "Who'd have thought, Draco Malfoy, who seemed to know everything, is just as naive as the rest of us."

Harry looked away, embarrassed for his lack of experience.

"I'm not making fun." Harper gently lifted Harry's chin. "Just surprised. Rumors and all."

"Have you done this a lot?"

"A bit. There's a boy in my neighborhood. He goes to Durmstrang. His father is from Norway or Sweden, or something like that. Anyway, it's frowned upon at such a manly school as Durmstrang, so we hook up during summer breaks."

"Oh."

"Are you jealous?" Harper teased.

Harry blushed.

"Don't be," Harper assured him. "We've only done a bit of snogging and rutting. I did cum in my pants a few times though," he giggled.

Harry knew the feeling. But he'd been alone when it happened to him.

Harper pulled Harry to him and rubbed his crotch against Harry's. "Maybe it'll happen again."

They began to kiss again. And this time, Harry guided Harper's hands back to his chest. Taking the hint, Harper flicked and pinched Harry, enjoying Harry's moans and groans.

Harry's hands, meanwhile, had made their way down to cup Harper's arse and pull him harder against his groin. If they kept it up much longer, Harper was going to get his wish.

"Oh fuck." Suddenly Harper stilled and grunted. Harry knew he was cumming and it turned him on even more than he had been. Harper sighed heavily in his ear. "Oh, yeah."

He pulled away from Harry. Even though his skin was somewhat dark to begin with, Harry could see the flush from his orgasm. A wet spot had formed on his trousers where the still firm lump ended.

Harry felt some satisfaction at that. He'd never made anybody cum before. However, he still needed relief.

Trying to pull Harper back against him, Harry's attempts were thwarted.

"No," Harper said. "I want to do you properly."

Harry had no idea what he meant by that, and a wave of panic started through him.

As Harper began to unzip Harry's trousers, Harry stopped him. "Wait."

"I'm only going to use my hand," the boy promised.

Though nervous, Harry's need for release overcame him and he allowed Harper to do as he pleased.

Before he knew it, his trousers were pooled around his ankles, along with his pants. His cock, Draco's cock, was pointing straight out at Harper, practically begging him to take hold.

Harper gladly accepted the invitation. Harry's knees almost buckled at the first tug. He closed his eyes and moaned.

"Merlin's beard."

"Feel's good?" questioned Harper.

"Fucking brilliant."

Harry pulled Harper's face to his, kissing him with all the passion he could muster, while Harper stroked swiftly and firmly.

Remembering that Harry so enjoyed to have his nipples played with, Harper reached his free hand up under his shirt.

Nearly at once, Harry released Harper's mouth and threw his head back, almost hitting the wall behind him.

"Oh. Oh. Fuck." Harry had to steady himself, grabbing on tightly to Harper's shoulders. The waves kept on coming. "Fuck. Harper. Fuck."

When Harry had finally settled back down, he opened his eyes to find Harper staring with his mouth hanging open. Harry knew he probably should have been embarrassed by his display, but it was the best fucking thing he'd ever felt and he truly couldn't help himself.

"What?" he blushed furiously, which showed up brilliantly on Malfoy's pale skin.

"That was . . . did I do that to you?"

Harry giggled. "There's no on else in here."

"Was it _that_ good? I mean, Henry never . . ."

"Never what?" Harry asked. "Is that the boy from Durmstrang?"

Harper nodded. "He only grunts a bit. Makes it seem like it's no big deal. I wonder sometimes if he even enjoys a good pop. But you . . ."

Harry blushed again. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"No. Don't be. That was beautiful. I liked that you called my name."

Honestly, Harry's brain was so shorted out, he couldn't recall anything he'd said. Harper was frowning.

"What's wrong?" Harry smoothed Harper's hair from his sweaty forehead.

"I always tried to be quiet, you know. I wanted to be cool about it, the way Henry was. But now I see that it isn't cool to act like you don't care. I really liked hearing that you were enjoying yourself."

"I think I was enjoying _you_," Harry corrected. "We should get cleaned up and out of here before someone finds us."

"It would totally be worth a few detentions."

hdhdhdhdhd

Even though it was Saturday, many of the Sixth and Seventh Years were studying or writing essays. It seemed that professors made up for the lack of classroom time requirement with extra homework and tests.

Draco sat at on the couch in the common room next to Hermione with a book on his lap, but not actually reading it.

"Harry, either you are the world's slowest reader, or you're daydreaming again."

"I don't know why you even bother trying to pretend, mate. Hermione always knows when we're skiving," Ron joked.

Draco smiled. Ron was right.

"It's a beautiful day," Hermione snapped her book shut. "Why don't we bring our lunches down to the lake?"

"Seriously?" Ron excitedly closed his book. "Hurry up Harry, before she changes her mind."

Draco put his book aside and followed the other two down to the Great Hall. While they walked, Ron told them he'd heard from Charlie in Romania. He brought the letter to read to them, telling all about the new dragons.

When Hermione again tried to bring up Dumbledore's Horcrux quest, Draco told her he just wanted to enjoy the day without thinking about it. It was unlike Harry, but she let it drop, assuming the pressure was getting to him.

They'd brought a bag to lunch with them and began stuffing food items inside. Hermione cast a spill prevention spell on the plates and cups until they got down to the lake. Draco brought the blanket from Harry's bed for them to sit on. And Ron brought the purloined fanged frisbee Hermione took from another student earlier in the year.

"If you get caught with that, Ron, don't blame us," Hermione warned. "You know they're forbidden."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Only if I get caught."

"And who are you going to throw it to? Yourself?"

"Me," Draco grinned. "You act as though nobody does anything they're not supposed to around here."

Ron clapped him on the back as the trio left the Great Hall. From his seat in Slytherin, Harry noticed and chased after them.

"Dr- damn. Harry. Uh, I mean, Potter," Harry stammered.

"For Merlin's sake, what do you want now?" Draco shouted.

Harry was a bit taken aback by the outburst. Until then, Draco had been behaving civilly to him. He was beginning to think Blaise was completely wrong in thinking Draco had a crush on him.

"You know what, never mind. You'll find out soon enough. You stupid prat," he muttered.

He had intended to warn Draco of his relationship with Harper ahead of time. If Draco had a serious problem with it, Harry would try and let the boy down gently before he and Draco switched back.

But if Draco was going to be a git about it, then he could deal with it himself.

"Find out what?" Draco paused.

"Harry, don't pay any attention to him," Hermione said. "Let's go."

"Uh, you go on. I'll be right there," Draco said. Turning back to Harry, he asked, "What are you going on about? Did Snape say something to you?"

"No. It's not about Snape."

Draco threw his arms up in the air. "You have my bloody attention. What _is_ it already?"

"I, uh," Harry was having a hard time spitting it out. He noticed Draco looking out in the direction Ron and Hermione left several times. "You _want_ to go off with them, don't you?"

"Don't be daft."

"Yes. You do. You don't give a rat's arse what I have to tell you. You just want to go and be with them."

Draco simply stared. Or glared. Harry wasn't sure what the difference was when it came to Draco.

"Why do you have a blanket with you?" he asked.

Looking down, Draco almost forgot he was carrying it. "I . . . we . . . are going down to the lake."

"You're having a picnic?"

Draco nodded.

"With Ron and Hermione?"

"Obviously." Draco looked a little guilty. But not too guilty to say, "They're waiting. Did you have something you wanted to tell me or not?"

Harry didn't answer straightaway. It was important to tell him about Harper. But perhaps it was more important for Draco to spend time with friends. Even if they were Harry's friends.

"It can wait."

Shaking his head in confusion, Draco left the castle to join Ron and Hermione.

hdhdhdhdhd

After filling up on roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, Draco lay on his back gazing up at the clouds. Ron was reading Charlie's letter about the dragon hatchlings he was charged with caring for.

"That sounds exciting, doesn't it?" Ron asked rhetorically. "Maybe I'll go to work with Charlie when I leave here."

"I thought you wanted to be an Auror?" Draco questioned. He had been paying attention when Ron spoke sometimes.

"Yeah. I still do I guess. But Charlie makes dragon raising sound like an adventure."

"And you don't think being an Auror will be an adventure?" Hermione queried. "Once the war is over, there will be more Death Eaters to bring to justice than Aurors. The Ministry will need you, Ron. You and Harry both."

Draco cringed, thinking he would be one of those Death Eaters Ron and Harry would be chasing. He inwardly cursed the course his life was taking.

While Hermione and Ron found something new to argue about, Draco became lost in thought. Now that he'd eaten, played a bit of frisbee and listened to Ron's letter, he was curious what Harry was trying to tell him. It seemed that Harry had been trying to tell him something for the past several days, but kept losing his nerve.

A couple of students nearby noticed the fanged frisbee and asked Ron for a game. Draco declined and stayed on the blanket with Hermione. He was beginning to doze off when she spoke.

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened with Ginny?"

"Hm?" Draco mumbled. His arm lay across his eyes to block out the light. He didn't feel much like talking.

"I just don't understand," she continued. "It was the opportunity you'd been waiting for."

"Let it go," he sighed. "She seems happy."

"But what about you?'

"I'm fine."

She let out a little huff.

"And besides," he said. "You're a fine one to talk."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You know very well what I mean."

She crossed her arms over her chest. Not that he could see it. "I most certainly do not."

He grinned. It was fun to get her goat. He wondered if Harry liked to rile her up. Ron sure seemed to.

"I mean," he sat up. "You and him." He jerked his head toward Ron.

"Me and _Ron_?" she questioned.

"Yeah, well, not that I'm not surprised _he_ hasn't picked up on it. He's a bit of a dolt when it comes to girls, isn't he?"

Hermione laughed.

"But you . . . you're quite perceptive. Surely you've noticed the furtive glances. Or, rather, the ones he thinks are furtive." He chuckled. "I don't know why the two of you are being so coy. Where's that famous Gryffindor courage? He even said your name when he was in a delirious state after being poisoned." According to Harry anyway. He said he was sure it was Hermione's name Ron murmured.

Hermione's mouth dropped open. She thought she'd heard it as well, but didn't dare ask anyone else if they heard it. She would have been mortified if it had only been her imagination. Or wishful thinking.

Draco smirked cockily and lay back down, once again covering his eyes with his arm. Yes, Granger certainly was fun to tease. She blushed in several different shades of pink during their conversation. Of course, if she knew it was Draco Malfoy teasing her rather than Harry, she'd most likely hex his bollocks off.

Again, he was drifting off when she next spoke.

"What about you and Ginny then?"

"That's different," he mumbled.

"Why? You must know that she likes you, despite the fact that she's dating Dean again."

"Mm," Draco answered noncommittally.

"Why don't _you_ have the courage? You could probably get any girl you'd like?"

"But I don't like girls."

There was a long silence before Draco realized what he'd said. Most of Slytherin knew, but what happened in Slytherin, stayed there. Then he realized he'd said it for Harry. He sat up quickly, gasping.

"Um, I didn't . . . that's not what I meant to say."

"Then why did you say it?"

"Fuck." Draco covered his face with his hands. Harry was going to kill him if he didn't fix it.

"Harry?"

"Um," Draco was desperately trying to think of a reason that Harry would have said he didn't like girls. Then it came to him. "What I meant was, that I don't like _girls_. Plural. I only like Ginny."

Hermione didn't look convinced.

Draco opened his mouth several times. However, he knew that one could never make his case by protesting too much.

Licking her lips, Hermione very carefully chose her next words. "Well, it does make some sort of sense I suppose."

Draco sat up straighter. "It _does_?" He paused. "Wait, what does?"

She turned to look closely at him. She gave a little laugh. He frowned.

"I'm not laughing at you Harry. More myself," she blushed slightly. "I was considering _our_ lack of chemistry. Not that you should find me irresistible or anything. Furthermore, I always attributed your awkwardness around girls to shyness or lack of confidence. But you're not shy. You can be quite bold. And if you were truly lacking confidence, you would never have been able to do half the things you've accomplished."

"Gr- Hermione, really. I'm . . . I do like Ginny."

She gave him a knowing smile. "When you can say that without wincing, I might believe it."

Draco sighed. "What can I do to convince you that you are mistaken?"

"Harry," she rested a hand on his arm. "Have it your way." She finally relented.

"Oi, look out!" Ron called from across the lawn.

The fanged frisbee was headed straight for them, effectively ending their conversation. Draco swiftly pulled Hermione out of the way as it landed. Ron ran toward them, a bit of a frown on his face as he caught sight of Hermione sprawled on top of who he thought was Harry.

"Hmph." Ron was going to apologize until he saw that.

"Thanks Harry," Hermione smiled. Knowing that he meant nothing at all by holding her so closely, she got great satisfaction from the jealous look on Ron's face. Even so, her Gryffindor courage still eluded her regarding one of her best friends.

"We'd better be getting back to studying anyway," said Hermione. "Help me clean up."

Draco stood and took out Harry's wand to Vanish the bag and leftover food. Hermione folded the blanket. Ron picked up Charlie's letter and stuffed it into his pocket, and gingerly picked up the fanged frisbee, oblivious to Hermione and Draco's previous chat.

Hermione, however, was intent on observing Draco. Though he protested his original statement, Hermione was convinced it was the truth.

As they walked back into the castle, Ron walked ahead. Draco moved closer to Hermione to whisper.

"Don't go telling anyone else your wild theory." It was bad enough Hermione thought Harry was gay now. He didn't want her to put the idea into Ron's head as well. He figured eventually, Harry would be able to convince her that he was a straight arrow. And maybe even get together with Ginny, if that's what he wanted.

On the way in through the door to the castle, Michael Corner was coming in the opposite direction. The Ravenclaw student allowed Ron and Hermione entrance first, and tried to let Draco through as well. But Draco stepped back out of the way to allow Michael to come out. As the Ravenclaw boy walked past, Draco's eyes traveled up and down his lithe form, dressed in casual clothing for the weekend. A small, appreciative smile graced Draco's face while he watched the boy's hips sway as he walked away. When he turned back around to enter the castle, Hermione was trying unsuccessfully to suppress a grin.

"I won't tell," she giggled.

Draco could only sigh and roll his eyes. _He__'__s going to fucking kill me_, he thought. _I only had to keep it together for one more day_.

hdhdhdhdhd


	7. reversal of fortune

*** justhateharryatthemoment- I understand your attitude toward Harry. I feel like Draco is having an easier time being Harry because that's what he really wants to be. As Harry, he doesn't have to bully anyone, or try to keep his status. Plus, _he's_ not worrying about defeating Voldemort. Harry, on the other hand, is not used to being a jerk and he's having a hard time putting himself in Draco's shoes, literally. As far as his thing with Harper is concerned, he's never had the opportunity to be close to someone. It isn't that Harry doesn't care what Draco wants. Like a normal teenaged boy, he's thinking with his dick and not his head. And he's justifying it by thinking he's helping Draco. But don't be too mad at him.**

**thanks also to HowlingRain, cassy1994, ReedSuckingNinjaClarinetist, and colinlance for reading and reviewing!**

* * *

"Where are we going?" Harper giggled as Harry pulled him along. Luckily, the halls were mostly empty that Saturday night, with the exception of a few other couples searching for privacy. No one paid them any mind.

"You'll see," grinned Harry.

Harper was a tad disappointed when they stopped in the middle of a hallway. He glanced around.

"This isn't very private."

"Close your eyes," Harry told him.

Reluctantly, Harper complied while Harry paced back and forth, mumbling.

Suddenly, a door appeared on the formerly blank wall. Harry took Harper's hand, reminding him to keep his eyes closed, as he guided him inside the room. Harper began to giggle again.

Once the door closed behind them, Harry let go of Harper's arm. He took some items out of the bag he was carrying and arranged them in a way he thought was pleasing. Next he took out Draco's wand and whispered, "_Incendio_. Okay, you can open your eyes."

Harper gasped when he did. "Where are we? How did you do all this?" He looked around the small room, marveling at his surroundings. There was a fireplace on one wall that, along with a few candles, lit the room. Large, fluffy pillows lay about the floor, which was covered by a plush throw rug. In the center of the room was a tray with short legs. On it was an assortment of cauldron cakes, pumpkin pasties, chocoballs, and sugared butterfly wings, along with a small tea pot and cups. The decor was dark red and antique gold. Harry couldn't help himself.

"I wanted to do something nice for you, since you've been so good to me," Harry said. He sat down on one of the red velvet pillows and patted the one next to it for Harper to join him.

Harper sat down and eyed up the sweets. "Where did you get all these?"

"I asked Blaise to get them for me when he went to Hogsmeade. Go ahead, take what you like."

While Harper perused the goodies, Harry used the wand to fill the tea pot with water and heat it up. After dropping in a couple of tea bags, he relaxed against the pillows to observe Harper.

"I can't believe you did all this for me," Harper grinned. "Aren't you having any?"

"I will," replied Harry. "I want you to pick out what _you_ want first." He was very pleased to make Harper happy.

After choosing a few chocoballs and a pair of sugared butterfly wings, Harper settled back onto his pillow. Harry poured tea for both of them, then picked out one of the pumpkin pasties for himself.

They sat in front of the fire, chatting, nibbling their desserts, and drinking their tea. During a lull in the conversation, Harper realized that there was soft music playing.

"This is very romantic, Draco."

Harry didn't respond other than to take another bite of his pastie. He knew it was romantic, and that he'd planned it. Part of him wanted to believe he was just being nice to someone who'd been nice to him. Part of him knew that at the same time the next night, the real Draco would be wearing his own skin. Harry would be in his own dormitory. And, most likely, he and Harper would never become friends outside of this sheltered existence. He wanted to hold on just a bit longer.

Once he finished his treats and his tea, Harper leaned back and glanced up at the ceiling. It was spelled to look like the starry night sky. Harry joined him after putting down his own cup.

"Look," Harper said, pointing up. "There's you."

Harry's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Laughing, Harper answered. "Draco, the constellation."

"Oh, right."

"And there's mine," Harper pointed again.

Harry nudged his shoulder. "There's no constellation called Harper."

"No. But my zodiac sign is Virgo. See? There it is. What's yours?"

"Uh, I never really paid much attention to that sort of thing," Harry told him.

"When's your birthday?"

"Ju, um, June," Harry remembered at the last moment to say June rather than July. Luckily they started the same way so he didn't sound like a complete idiot. But he wasn't certain of the exact day of Draco's birth, he only recalled seeing the Slytherins celebrating near the beginning of June. Every year, Draco made a show of bringing treats for his friends and gloating.

Harper chuckled softly. "I don't know why I asked that. I already knew. It's the fifth, right?"

Harry nodded, assuming Harper was correct.

"You're a Gemini." Harper scanned the stars until he found it. "There, almost all the way to the edge."

"I see it." Harry chuckled. "I never thought Astronomy class would ever really do me any good. But this is sort of fun."

"Know what else is fun?" Harper turned to his side, leaning up on one elbow.

Trying to suppress his grin, Harry asked, "What?"

"As if you didn't know." Harper leaned forward, and Harry met him half way, their lips connecting softly.

They kissed leisurely on the pile of pillows while gentle music played. After a while, Harper broke away.

"It's getting a little warm in here."

"I can dim the fire a bit, if you'd like."

"Or," Harper began to unbutton his shirt. "We can take off a couple of layers."

Harry swallowed nervously, his gulp audible. He didn't respond verbally, but sat up and pulled his jumper over his head. As they continued to disrobe, they watched one another. Harper licked his lips while Harry shimmied out of his trousers, leaving him down to pants and socks. After stripping off the socks one by one, Harry had trouble breathing. Only one piece of clothing left. By then, Harper was completely nude, lying amongst the pillows, and looking just as nervous as Harry felt.

Trying desperately not to stare at Harper's nether regions, Harry slowly peeled off the boxer shorts he was wearing and leaned back.

"You're gorgeous," whispered Harper.

At first, Harry smiled and blushed. Then he remembered that it was Draco that Harper thought was gorgeous. He probably thought Harry was a four-eyed freak.

"What's wrong? Are you nervous?" Harper asked. He reached out to stroke Harry's cheek.

"A bit." He let out a shuddered sigh.

"Me too."

Despite his confession, Harper scooted closer, until their thighs bumped and Harry's arm lay beneath Harper. It was then that Harry finally dropped his gaze. Harper's cock was nearly touching his. Not quite, but close enough that Harry thought he could almost feel a sort of electricity between them.

The contrast between Harper's and Draco's skin was literally like night and day. Harry, when in his own body, was on the lighter side between the two. He thought he must have been staring because he heard Harper let out a giggle, drawing Harry's gaze back up.

"You can touch it, you know. I won't get off with you just ogling it."

Biting his lip, Harry admitted, "I've never . . . touched anyone else." _Besides Draco__'__s cock_, he thought. But Harry couldn't very well explain all that.

"Well, it's never been touched by anyone else. Maybe I've been waiting for you. Maybe we've been waiting for each other."

Harper reached for Harry's hand and pulled it toward him. When Harry didn't offer resistance, he wrapped their hands together over his cock.

"Oh," Harper whimpered. "Oh, Draco." He began to slowly move their hands up and down his shaft.

Harry watched, his mouth open in wonder. He'd wanked more times than he could count in his young life, but having his (technically Draco's) hand on another man's hard on was something he never anticipated experiencing. It made his own cock twitch to life. Harper let go with his hand, leaving Harry to stimulate him on his own.

As he stroked, Harry took notice of the differences, not only between Harper and Draco's cocks, but his own as well. Harper had skin the color of chocolate milk in general, but his cock was a richer, deeper brown, along with his bollocks. The hair surrounding them was black and wiry, somewhat like Harry's own. And he was thick. Thicker, even than Draco. But not longer. The cock felt heavy in his hand. And the power of causing Harper to make the obscene noises he was making was going to Harry's head. He was feeling dizzy with it. Until he realized that he was practically hyperventilating from panting himself.

Composing himself, Harry slowed his movements.

"Merlin, Draco, I thought you said you never did that before. To somebody else, I mean. You made me forget that I wanted to do that to you, too."

"Please," Harry squeaked. He was afraid he'd cum the moment Harper's hand touched him. But luckily Harper squeezed him a bit too hard and kept that from happening. "Kiss me."

Harper happily yielded and the pair snogged while stroking each other off. Moaning loudly, Harper popped first. Harry followed quickly. When their hearts stopped pounding and their breathing returned to normal, Harper grabbed his wand and cleaned them up. Before Harry could get up, Harper lay back down next to him, resting his head on Harry's shoulder.

"That was . . ." Harper sighed, "the best thing ever."

Though Harry laughed, he agreed. Lying there, skin to skin with another person was a close second. He ran his hand gently up and down Harper's back.

"This is nice," Harry said. "But we probably should think about going back."

"I don't want to leave."

"Me neither, but we don't want to get caught by Filch."

Harper grumbled. He rolled on top of Harry, resting his forearms on Harry's chest. Harry had to pull his head back slightly to see him in focus. Harper's large brown eyes gazed into his.

"I love you."

Harry's smile dropped. "What?"

"I love-

"I heard you," Harry interrupted. "You can't. Not after only a few days."

"But I do."

Harry gently pushed him back and sat up. "Harper . . ."

"But you don't." The boy looked completely dejected.

"I . . . I've never been in love. I'm not even sure what that feels like. I do enjoy spending time with you."

"Do you think you _could_?" Harper smoothed his hand over the velvet fabric of his pillow.

"Harper, despite what you _think_ you may know about me, this is all very new to me. And I'm still trying to sort it out. I don't think it would be fair of me to make promises." He took Harper's hands in his own. "But, I can tell you, that right now, at this moment, there isn't anywhere else I'd rather be."

It seemed to be enough for Harper.

hdhdhdhdhd

Harry paced in the Entrance Hall shortly before two on Sunday afternoon. Draco had promised to meet him before they both went to Professor Snape's office, but he was late. He was becoming agitated when something bumped his arm.

"Pst. Potter." He heard a whisper.

"Draco?" he whispered back. "Follow me."

Assuming Draco was using his invisibility cloak, Harry walked to the broom closet so they could talk in private. Once the door was shut, Draco removed the cloak.

"Are you ready?"

"More than ready," Draco answered. "I know there's something you've been meaning to tell me. We haven't got much time before we go to Snape's office."

"First you have to promise that you won't get angry."

"If you make someone promise that, it means you expect them to get angry. What did you do, Potter?"

"It's not so bad." Harry bit his lip. "I mean, I think it's a good thing. I just thought I should warn you."

Draco gritted his teeth. It wasn't as if he could hex Harry for what he was about to tell him. It would only hurt his own body.

"Fine. I promise. What is it?"

"All right. So, you know how you told me to forget about that Fifth Year?"

"What of it?"

"Well . . . you're sort of secretly . . . dating."

Harry covered his ears. Surely someone must have heard Draco's scream.

"A Fifth Year? You have me dating a _Fifth_ Year? How is that even possible? Everyone in Slytherin knows I'm-" Draco stopped mid-sentence. He forced himself to calm down. "Which Fifth Year, exactly?"

"Harper." Harry avoided his gaze.

"But . . . Harper's . . . a boy." Draco was utterly confused.

"Yes, I've figured that out for myself, thanks."

Draco scratched his head. He remembered that Harry wanted him to kiss Ginny for him. Had Harry tried to do something similar for Draco? But why wouldn't he have told him sooner?

Harry swallowed. "It all started by mistake. He acted as though the two of you were friendly. More than friendly. But . . . not involved yet."

"And the mistake was?"

"He told me you promised him . . . that you would kiss him the next time you were alone," Harry blushed.

"And you believed him?"

"He thought he was talking to you. You must have said something along those lines."

Draco thought back. "Oh. I may have implied a reward if he did me favors. I don't recall it being a kiss specifically. But wait, you let him kiss you? Why?"

"I had just left the infirmary. My head was still swimming and I was honestly too knackered to care what he did. So, one thing led to another, and now you're seeing each other. But only Zabini and Nott know."

Tugging at his hair, Draco growled. "What the fuck? How did you screw up my life so quickly?"

"It's not screwed up. He _really_ likes you. Harper is very sweet and-"

Draco began to laugh out loud.

"What's so funny?" asked Harry. "One minute you're ready to throttle me. And the next you're laughing."

Draco leaned over, resting his hands on his knees, still giggling. He held up a hand, silently asking Harry to give him a moment.

"Sweet?" Draco finally caught his breath. "Harper is _sweet_? Are you barmy? Or in love?" His eyes went wide. "Oh shit."

"No, of course I'm not. I was only going along with it, like I asked _you_ to do," Harry protested.

"Well, I didn't ask you to do _anything_ for me. Now I have to find a way to get rid of him on top of everything else."

"Or, you could continue to see him and enjoy the company," suggested Harry. "Draco, he lo-

A clock began to strike two o'clock, igniting fear into both Harry and Draco. They scrambled out of the broom closet, and down the stairs to Snape's office. There was no doubt about it. They were going to be late. Harry ran into the room first, then Draco slid in, hitting Harry, knocking them both to the floor. Snape stood unmoving, glaring down at them.

"You're . . . late."

"Sorry professor," Draco said. We were-"

Snape put up a hand. "Do you have your wands?"

"Yes sir." They both held them up.

"Draco, you stand there," Snape pointed. "Potter, over there. I want you both to concentrate on one another, using your wands and Legilimens. But you must allow one another in this time. I will use my wand to cast the spell I've learned to hopefully send your consciousnesses back where they belong."

"Hopefully?" Harry asked.

"This is Dark Magic Potter. Similar to a Dementor's Kiss. And there are no guarantees."

"You mean, we might end up staying this way?" That thought both terrified and relieved Draco for reasons he couldn't explain.

"Not necessarily. Your souls could be lost forever."

"What?" both boys cried.

"It would serve you right. But I exaggerate. The research I've done indicates that this spell will work. If . . . you cooperate."

"What sort of research?" asked Harry.

Snape leaned close to him. "You don't . . . want . . . to know."

"Can we get on with it?" Draco sighed.

"Is being me that bad?" Harry mumbled. "I'm ready."

Gazing intently at each of them, Snape commanded, "Whatever happens, whatever you feel, do _not_ close off your mind. It may feel . . . odd."

The process itself didn't take very long. While Harry and Draco concentrated their thoughts on one another, opening their minds, thoughts and memories, Snape repeated his incantation.

Had Harry and Draco the luxury of watching him, they would have seen the professor waving his wand in intricate, specific movements. In his very hands, he held both of their souls, coaxing them back where they belonged. Snape's spell casting was a work of art, lost on the very boys he was attempting to repair.

When it was over, both boys collapsed to the ground. Fortunately, Snape had anticipated this and had provided cushions on which to rest. Neither Harry nor Draco woke for nearly half an hour.

hdhdhdhdhd

Harry opened his eyes first. He rubbed his eyes and tried to sit up.

"Slowly, Potter. It wouldn't do to have you pass out again."

"Did it work?"

"I just called you Potter, didn't I?"

"Right." Harry looked down at his hands. He never thought he would be relieved to see the faint scars from Umbridge's special quill. "Thank you professor."

Snape leaned down in front of Draco. "Wake up, Draco."

The Slytherin's eyes fluttered open. He sighed with relief, knowing he was himself again.

"I suggest going to your rooms to lie down. You've just had quite an experience."

They nodded and solemnly left the office side by side.

"Well," Harry began. "I guess it's back to our lives."

"Yeah."

There was more to say, but neither of them knew exactly what that was. Harry had offered his help and been turned down time and again. If Draco wanted to take him up on it, it was up to him.

Harry simply nodded, and began to walk toward the Slytherin common room.

"Where do you think you're going?" Draco asked.

"Right. Habit." Part of Harry wanted nothing more than to lie down in Malfoy's comfy bed, with Harper. His next thought was Ron and Hermione.

With a new spring in his step, Harry headed up the stairs. Stopping at the broom cupboard to retrieve his cloak first, he made his way up to Gryffindor.

Grinning, Harry walked in to find Ron and Hermione bickering. It was music to his ears. Without a word, he pulled them both into an embrace.

"What's gotten into you Harry?" Hermione squealed.

"Nothing. I'm just happy to see you."

"What did Snape do to you?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "Nothing much. He wanted to lecture us again, to make sure we stayed out of each other's way."

"I hope you learned a lesson," chided Hermione. "Both of you."

"Yeah. I think we both did."

hdhdhdhdhd

As he walked into Slytherin, Draco noted the subtle differences between his and Harry's bodies. His viewpoint was just slightly higher. And he felt lighter. He realized that his arms were longer than Harry's as well, which may have been what was affecting his wand swishing.

He hadn't even given Harper a second look as he strode past. So when the Fifth Year appeared in his room behind him, Draco was startled to say the least.

"Did he give you a hard time?" Harper asked, giving a little pout.

"Sorry?"

"Professor Snape. Isn't that who you were going to see?"

Draco stared at him for a moment. Harry called this boy sweet. But Draco didn't have time for a relationship. The term was coming to an end, and he had a serious job to do.

"Yeah. The meeting with Snape was fine." Draco tossed his wand on his cabinet and pulled off his jumper.

Harper came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist. Draco immediately stiffened and pulled away.

"What's wrong?"

Draco sighed, silently cursing Harry for putting him in this position. "I'm sorry. I don't think things are going to work out for us."

"What?" Harper sank slowly onto he bed.

"Look, it's not you. I just don't . . . I need to concentrate on other things. It's been fun-"

"Fun?" Harper blinked away tears. "_Fun_? Were you just having fun with me? Was last night just . . . fun?"

"Maybe that was the wrong word." Draco was now regretting not finishing his conversation with Potter. What the hell had he done with this boy? How far did he take the relationship?

"I don't understand what's changed," Harper sniffed. "I know you said," Harper swallowed hard. "You said you don't love me. I get that. But you didn't say anything about breaking up."

"I'm sorry."

"So, that's it? It's done?"

"I'm afraid so." Draco truly felt bad for him. But it was all Potter's fault, not his. He never asked for this. And he didn't want it to linger.

Yet, linger, it did. Harper didn't move from his spot. Worse, he started crying.

"Harper. Please don't make this more difficult."

"What did Snape do to you? He must have said something, or done something. People don't kiss someone goodbye, and come back announcing it's over."

Draco had enough of the sniveling. "I don't want to be cruel, but I want you to leave. Now."

Trying hard to pull himself together, Harper stood. "You'll regret this," he said, and stormed out.

Draco flung himself onto his bed. Oh, how he missed his bed. He wondered what else Harry had done to complicate his life. They were going to have to have a long talk.

By the time supper rolled around, Draco was ready to socialize with his friends again. Theo, Blaise and Pansy accompanied him to the Great Hall and sat with him, as usual. And, as usual, Pansy gossiped while they ate. He looked over to the Gryffindor table. Harry looked especially happy to be back. Though, he did note that he hadn't made any attempts to talk to Ginny Weasley.

Draco happened to glance to his left. Harper had a similar expression to Ginny when Draco had refused to kiss her. Then it occurred to him. Harry had been constantly looking in the same direction when he was in his place. It was Harper that always caught Harry's eyes and made him smile during meals. It was Harper that made Draco scowl with jealousy. He just didn't realize it at the time.

Maybe Potter really was in love with Harper. Was that even possible? Despite Harry's claims to the contrary, he acted like a fool in love. Or at the very least, in lust. Recalling Harper's words- _was last night . . . fun_\- Draco thought the relationship was more serious than Harry let on. Serious enough for one of them to have mentioned the word love.

Draco rubbed his forehead.

"Are you all right Draco?" Pansy asked.

"Yeah, fine. A bit of a headache is all. I think I'll go lie down."

He left the Hall without a second look back at either Harry or Harper.

hdhdhdhdhd

"Hello?" Hermione waved her hand in front of Harry's face.

"What? Oh, sorry."

"Are you sure you're all right?" she questioned.

"Yes, Hermione. I'm fine. Just a lot on my mind. I haven't spoken to Dumbledore in a while and I'm getting anxious."

She nodded in understanding. Then she turned around to face the Slytherin table.

"What do you keep looking at? Is it Malfoy?" But she saw that he wasn't there.

"Nothing," Harry muttered. "I'm not looking at anything."

He picked up his fork and continued eating, mainly because couldn't answer any more of Hermione's questions if his mouth was full. He had noticed that when Draco got up to leave, Harper started to get up too. The boy sat back down when Draco didn't even acknowledge him. Harry couldn't help wonder what, if anything, happened between the pair of them. It was obvious that Harper looked fairly miserable. And Harry could guess that Draco had already broken things off.

He wished he could explain things to Harper. Not that Harry completely understood himself. It was a mystery to him why he let the boy kiss him in the first place. Sure, he justified it by saying he was injured and confused. Or that he was trying to help Malfoy in some way. Or even, that Harry had been craving intimate companionship so badly, he would accept it from nearly anyone.

No, that wasn't exactly true. The thought of being intimate with either Ron or Hermione made Harry shudder. However, remembering Harper's hands on him made his cock twitch under his robes.

Harry had to face it. He liked a boy. And the boy parts that came with him. What he had yet to figure out was that if it was an anomalous crush, or if he was indeed attracted to boys in general.

He'd already decided that, no, he was not the least bit attracted to Ron. But then again, he wasn't attracted to Hermione either. So Harry would count them in the 'off limits' category.

Admittedly, Harry had admired Draco's physique while he was wearing it. He tried to tell himself that men compared their bits all the time. They all did it in the Quidditch locker room, teasing the less endowed boys. On the other hand, it had been most enjoyable to handle Draco's cock and bollocks.

He groaned as he felt his own cock twitch again.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione interrupted his reverie.

"How many bloody times do I have to tell you I'm all right?" Harry raised his voice, tired of the questions.

Hermione snorted. "But you moaned. I thought perhaps you were in pain. Forgive me for caring." She speared a piece of carrot with her fork and bit it angrily.

Harry felt his face warm. He hadn't realized he'd moaned aloud thinking about Draco's cock.

"I'm sorry Hermione. I've just got a lot on my mind. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

Hermione pursed her lips and glanced at Ron, who was engaged in conversation with Seamus.

She hunched down and leaned forward, whispering, "Does it have something to do with what you said out at our picnic?"

Harry stared. He hadn't the slightest idea what she was talking about. He did recall that Draco had gone with her and Ron to the lake, but he had no way of knowing what they talked about.

"Um . . ."

"I know you said you didn't mean it. But the more I've thought about it, the more sense it actually makes. And, well, Ron and I certainly wouldn't think less of you. I don't think anybody would."

Blinking blankly, Harry had to improvise. So, Draco had said something to Hermione, then denied it. Whatever it was, Hermione couldn't let it go. No surprise there. His only choice was to continue with Draco's course of action.

"I said I didn't mean it. That's the end of it."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Harper and a couple of other Fifth Year Slytherins get up to leave the Great Hall. He wanted desperately to smooth things over with the boy. Logically, he knew that there was little chance of continuing their relationship now that he was back to being Harry. It was much too complicated to consider. But he didn't like the idea of leaving someone high and dry.

After Harper was out of his line of sight, Harry once again turned his attention toward Hermione. He was puzzled by her melancholy expression.

"What?" he asked.

Shaking her head, Hermione simply sighed. "I suppose you're fairly used to keeping secrets from us already. What's one more?"

For the rest of the evening, Hermione seemed distant. She would talk to him, of course, but she kept eye contact to a minimum and her answers curt. By the time they'd all decided it was time for bed, Harry had had enough.

Ron had gone to their room first, leaving Harry an opportunity to talk to Hermione alone. He pulled her aside, away from others who might overhear.

"What's your problem?" he asked.

"_My_ problem?"

"Yes. Clearly you're annoyed with me."

"I'm not annoyed with you," she said. "It's . . . just that we used to tell each other everything. And now there are so many secrets. So many burdens you feel you have to carry alone. But you don't. When we were at the lake and you let your guard down-"

"I told you, I didn't mean it," Harry protested, unaware of what exactly he was protesting.

"I heard you, Harry. And you _did_ mean it. Oh, you came up with a plausible excuse for it. But I don't understand why you'd need to hide it from me."

"I . . . I'm not. It's nothing, Hermione." He put a hand on her shoulder. What could Draco possibly have said that would get her this worked up?

"I know you can't always divulge what Dumbledore tells you. But I never thought you'd lie to me, Harry."

"I'm not."

She swatted his hand away from her shoulder. "I _saw_ you. I saw the way you looked at him. The way you used to look at Ginny, only, more intense. I thought you had feelings for her. But they were nothing compared to the look on your face when you watched that . . . Slytherin _boy_!"

Harry's face went white.

After long moments of staring at one another, Hermione gave up on getting Harry to open up. She sighed and began to turn away.

"Wait," Harry grabbed at her hand. His heart beat faster as he geared up to make his confession. "I didn't mean to lie to you. Well, I suppose I did. Or rather, I was hoping it would never come to light."

She took his other hand into hers. "Harry, I would never judge you. Clearly, there is something going on with . . . I don't know his name."

"Harper."

"Oh. I confess I can't even fathom how you know him. You truly can tell me anything."

He took a deep breath. "I don't want to lie to you, but I can't tell you everything. It isn't all mine to tell. But . . . suffice it to say that I found myself in a situation to get to know Harper. I wasn't quite myself and he didn't know my true identity." Harry tried to word his explanation carefully. "He made . . . advances that, at the time, I thought I needed to go along with."

He could tell by her expression that he wasn't making much sense.

"Were you using a Polyjuice Potion?"

"I, I really can't tell you. I'm sorry. But something like that."

Nodding, she cleared her throat. "So, he was under the impression that you were someone else. He . . . made advances, by which I assume you mean romantically. And you felt it was necessary to reciprocate. Is that the gist?"

He nodded.

"But that's not all, is it?" she questioned.

"No." Harry hung his head.

Hermione waited patiently for him to go on. She tried to, at any rate. When he was not forthcoming, she coaxed him a little.

"Are you in love with him?"

"No. I don't think so." He shook his head. "No." Unable to look her in the eye, he somehow went on. "But, being with him has awakened something in me I didn't even know was there. It's been confusing, at times. And incredibly . . . freeing at other times. I can't deny it anymore. I'm attracted to other boys, Hermione. What am I going to do?"

She smiled. "Be yourself. What else?"

Instantly, Harry drew her into a tight embrace. He should have known she would be supportive. When they parted, Harry sighed heavily. It was good to get off his chest. But he wasn't quite ready to announce his newfound sexuality to the world.

"Thank you, Hermione."

"I told you, you can tell me anything. Ron as well."

"No" he replied quickly. "Not yet. It was hard enough to admit to myself."

"Harry," she began.

"I will. Just not yet." He finally got the nerve to look her in the eye. "Please don't say anything to him. I don't want things to get . . . weird between us, if you know what I mean."

She nodded. "All right. It's not my news to tell. But please don't wait too long."

Harry was relieved as he walked into his room. His roommates were standing around in various states of undress, temporarily distracting him. He had to play it cool, though, if he intended to keep his secret.

It really wasn't that difficult. He thought of Ron and Neville as brotherly. Seamus was just a clot sometimes. And Harry had never fully gotten over his calling Harry a liar regarding Voldemort's return. There was no danger of sporting wood around them.

Dean, on the other hand, had grown quite handsome over the years, and strapping, standing several inches taller than the rest of the boys. It probably didn't help that he was dark skinned and haired, like Harper.

Averting his eyes, so as not to dwell on it, Harry swiftly changed into pajamas. He was very glad to be back in his own room, in his own bed.

Even if it was a bit lonely.


	8. timing is everything

***Thanks to HowlingRain, cassy1994, Magic Freak, sjrodgers23, iheartfictionalbadguys, and colinlance for reading and reviewing the last chapter.**

* * *

Harry was on his way out of Herbology a couple of days later, feeling better than ever. He was back to his old self. Nearly. Unfortunately, since having his revelation, Harry had a newfound appreciation for the male students at Hogwarts. And it was distracting.

He'd heard the stereotype of homosexual men to be the desire to screw anything with a cock and bollocks. To his relief, he found that he still had standards, or qualities to which he was attracted. However, there were still plenty of diversions at the school for him. He felt as though his hormones had been thrown into overdrive.

When Michael Corner walked past, he could have sworn the boy looked him up and down. Of course, the only way he would have known was if he was looking back. When had the Ravenclaw lost his baby fat, revealing those chiseled cheekbones?

Ron yawned beside him. "I sure am glad the day's over. I'm starved."

"There's still an hour and a half before supper," Hermione laughed.

"Yeah, but Mum owled me some biscuits. I was going to have them after supper, but . . ."

"You'll spoil your supper," Hermione admonished.

Harry and Ron looked at one another, then burst out laughing.

"Right," Hermione rolled her eyes. "What was I thinking?"

Coming down the hall toward them was a small group of Slytherin students, among them, Harper.

Harry stopped in his tracks. "Hello."

The group slowed, glancing at each other trying to figure out if Harry was actually speaking to one of them. Harper, near the front of the group, spoke.

"What the fuck do you want, Potter?"

"Wh- what?" Harry stammered.

"What? What?" Harper mocked. "Are you deaf Potter?"

All Harry could do was stare with his mouth open.

"As if Harry'd be talking to you lot. Bunch of stupid, stinkin', Slytherin scum." Ron grinned. He pulled Harry along, away from the rival students. "Who _were_ you talking to?"

"Oh, uh, I mistakenly thought I saw someone else," Harry replied vaguely. "I have to duck into the loo. Meet you in the room," he said, trotting off before Ron or Hermione could stop him.

When he got into the bathroom, he dropped his bag on the floor and hurried into a private stall. Before the door had latched shut, tears were falling.

He couldn't blame Harper of course. He didn't know Harry, except as a rival of Slytherin. The real Draco had probably bad-mouthed Harry all the time in front of his House, feeding the flames of hatred. It made Harry sad that the sweet, tender boy he knew felt he had to go along with the crowd, rather than be himself. It may have been that, more than Harry's hurt feelings, that brought the tears in the first place.

At least, that was what he told himself.

A short time later, Harry sniffed, and straightened himself up. He had to pull himself together. It wasn't as if he didn't know it was coming. His time with Harper would have to be relegated to a wonderful memory of his first sexual experiences. The next person he would find himself involved with would be his first _real_ relationship. He was determined for it to be open and honest.

Coming out of the bathroom, Harry felt a little better, putting his love life into perspective. He had bigger problems. Despite the daunting task ahead of him regarding the Dark Lord, there was a plan. And Harry had to keep reminding himself of that. It was difficult to wait around for Dumbledore before he could find and destroy the Horcruxes. But he had little choice.

Lost in his thoughts, Harry didn't notice the other student rounding the corner until he accidentally bumped into him.

"Watch it! Oh."

Harry gasped. "Draco. How are you?"

"Fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, I don't know," Harry said sarcastically. "Because we weren't ourselves for over a week? And I don't know about you, but I've been sort of at a loss at times, not knowing what I missed."

"Yeah, well, you told me what I missed," Draco grumbled.

"So, you broke it off with him, then?"

"Yes. There was a reason I hadn't gotten involved with him in the first place," Draco told him. "I . . . I know you thought maybe you were doing something I wanted you to do. But I didn't."

Harry raised an eyebrow. He'd been expecting Draco to still be angry with him.

"Uh, Potter, there's something I need to tell you." Draco was clearly nervous or anxious about what he had to say.

For a moment, Harry thought Draco was going to tell him that the reason he wasn't interested in Harper was because he had a crush on Harry. Harry's heart beat a little faster waiting for Draco to continue, not certain if it would be a good thing or a bad thing.

"I, uh, may have given Granger the impression that you . . . are . . ." he mumbled the rest, lowering his head.

"Sorry? I didn't catch that."

"Homosexual," Draco repeated, not much clearer.

"Oh. That."

Draco's head snapped up. "You know?"

Harry nodded. "I had a talk with Hermione about it already. It was a good talk. She hugged me at the end."

Draco sighed. "I knew you'd be able to set her straight. So now you can go after the weasel girl. Oh, unless you've actually got a thing for Granger."

"What? No." Harry's brow furrowed. Draco had completely misunderstood.

"This is a relief. Not that I'm afraid of you or anything, but I was certain you'd hex me fairly good for telling Granger you were a poof. I didn't mean to. But no harm done."

"No, Draco, that's not what I meant."

But Draco wasn't really listening. "So, it looks as though both of our mistakes have been fixed."

Harry reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Listen to me. I'm trying to tell you-"

"It doesn't matter," Draco interrupted. "Everything's back to normal. We're not friends. There isn't anything to tell each other. You go back to your side, and I'll go back to mine."

"It doesn't have to be that way," Harry said softly.

Draco's gaze lingered longer than he meant for it. "I'm afraid it does."

Before Harry could utter another word, Draco had continued on his way and disappeared down the hall. Harry grunted, frustrated that he hadn't been able to make himself clear. On the other hand, it was probably better that Draco didn't have any _more_ personal information to use against Harry.

More than that, though, Harry was frustrated that he couldn't persuade Draco not to go through with whatever task he was assigned. Because of Draco's slip of the tongue, coupled with what Harry saw during their open connection through Legilimency, Harry knew the other boy was about to do something for Voldemort. Something that Harry was afraid would shatter Malfoy's soul.

It wouldn't have bothered Harry nearly as much if he hadn't literally felt Draco's regret.

hdhdhdhdhd

"Well done!" Slughorn exclaimed. "Mr. Malfoy, I dare say this is the cleanest potion you've ever made in here."

"Thank you, professor," Draco answered in a most uncharacteristically humble manner.

The Potions professor leaned forward a bit and winked. "Somebody you need to get over, lad?"

"No, professor."

Slughorn moved on to inspect other cauldrons throughout the room. Harry left his own cauldron to satisfy his curiosity regarding Draco's potion.

"You're suddenly the darling of Potions."

"Jealous?" Draco smirked.

"Where's my book?" Harry demanded.

"What book?"

"You know very well. I haven't been able to find my potions book since we switched back."

Draco glanced around. "Sh. Lower your voice."

"What is this, anyway?" Harry peered into Draco's cauldron.

"It's . . . a hate potion."

"What does it do? Make someone hate you? Why would you want that?"

Draco shook his head. Despite owning the book with all the notes in it, Harry was still ignorant of so many things. "It reveals someone's worst faults and habits to the drinker, effectively making them find you less desirable to say the least."

Harry considered the ramifications of such a potion. "Are you going to slip it to Harper?"

Draco blinked in surprise. The thought had honestly not occurred to him. He was, in fact, planning to drink it himself. His crush on Harry had been particularly distracting since having use of his body. Even sitting in Potions, thinking about his mirror version of Harry was causing him to harden, especially with the real Harry standing there in the flesh. Thank Merlin for loose robes.

"There's no need. He and I have come to an understanding."

"I still think you should reconsider," Harry said. He began to turn and go back to his own seat. "My book?"

"I don't have it."

Harry snorted. "And you just so happen to have made your best potion this year?"

"I did look through it. I'm not a dolt. But I've hidden it where no one but me can find it. You'll have to finish the term on your own merits."

Harry couldn't really argue the point. The book had helped him excel. And as Hermione was fond of pointing out often, it was cheating. He decided to let it go. There was less than a month left, and frankly, Harry didn't care much about his grades at that point.

"By the way," Harry hesitated. "Congratulations."

"For the potion?" Draco questioned.

"For seeing seventeen. At least one of has."

Draco watched Harry walk back to his station. Was Harry really worried that he wouldn't live another two months? Then it hit him, Harry knew Draco had a birthday recently. For some reason, it made his cock twitch that Harry had actually paid attention to details about Draco's life.

He looked into his cauldron. Perhaps he'd put off taking it a while.

hdhdhdhdhd

For the next couple of weeks, Harry had gone about his business as usual. For the most part. Between futile searches for the Half Blood Prince's potions book, and his regular classes, Harry had become acutely aware of his male peers.

During especially boring periods of class, and occasionally during meals, Harry surreptitiously checked out the other boys. He thought, perhaps because of his experience with Harper, that he would find the darker boys more appealing, the way he did Dean. But he found that he didn't necessarily have a type. Ernie was somewhat nondescript with his light brown hair and eyes, and average features. Harry suspected it was more Ernie's personality that attracted him. Summerby, Hufflepuff's Seeker was quite fit, with his wavy, dirty blond hair and broad shoulders. But also catching his eye was Michael Corner, whom many found to be a bit on the dark side. Not his skin color, but his personality. His longish black hair and pale skin gave him an emo-like appearance that Harry fancied for some reason. It could have been because he caught the boy looking his way as well from time to time.

Then there was Malfoy. Yes, if Harry was going to be completely honest with himself, he had to include Malfoy among his attractions. He'd spent ten days staring into those piercing grey eyes every morning as he got ready for his day. And once he got over his guilt at examining Draco's body out of curiosity, he'd spent more time than he wanted to admit admiring it in the full length mirror next to Draco's bed. He'd even given in to the temptation to touch Draco's body for his own gratification.

"Shit," he whispered to himself.

"What?" Apparently, Ron had heard him.

"Nothing. I . . . forgot something I need to do," Harry murmured. He wasn't about to tell Ron that the thing he needed to do was wank. Once again, Harry found himself grateful for loose, flowing robes.

While he pondered excusing himself, Harry caught Michael Corner's gaze. Boldly gazing back, a small smile grew on his face. Harry expected the other boy to back down, but he didn't. Instead, the Ravenclaw subtly nodded toward the door.

Harry blinked and blushed. Was he being propositioned? He didn't know what made him do it, but Harry gave an affirmative nod.

"I, uh, I'm going to do that thing I forgot to do." Harry stood. "I'll see you later."

Trying not to look directly, Harry saw the other boy get up and move toward the door ahead of him. When Harry stepped through the door, he looked around for Michael. He felt a tug from behind and let himself be pulled into the broom closet.

"I didn't think you'd actually come," Michael said. "You _do_ know why I wanted you to, right?"

Harry grinned. "I'm pretty sure."

"So it's not been my imagination."

"Not unless it's been mine, too."

Harry wasn't sure who made the first move. It seemed that they suddenly were exploring one another's mouths. When Harry ran his fingers through Michael's long locks, he wasn't disappointed. Michael didn't waste any time on Harry's hair, he went directly for his crotch. Harry let out a yelp at the unexpected grab, slightly embarrassed that he was already fairly hard.

"No, it's definitely not my imagination," Michael breathed. He proceeded to shrug off Harry's robe, then unbutton his shirt.

Harry found it very arousing. He thought maybe he should reciprocate, but he didn't want to interrupt Michael's ministrations. When he felt the button on his trousers pop, and the zipper being pulled down, Harry groaned. He watched Michael lower to his knees.

"What are you doing?"

Michael grinned. "Hasn't anyone ever sucked you off?"

"Uh, no."

"Then you're in for a treat." Michael pulled down Harry's pants, taking all of Harry's cock into his mouth in one go.

"Oh, fuck," Harry cried. He continued to moan and gasp at the hot wetness surrounding him. He buried his hands in Michael's thick hair, trying to control himself while the Ravenclaw boy sucked, bobbing up and down. Harry had never seen a more wonderful sight.

Michael suddenly popped off and looked up at Harry with dark eyes full of lust.

"Do you want to try?" he asked.

It was a favor Harry assumed he should return. He found he was eager to do so. Mimicking Michael's moves, Harry was less aggressive. He didn't dare try to take in too much for fear of gagging. Gobbing on another man's junk would be far too embarrassing. So he stuck mainly to the upper half and tip. Without even realizing it, Harry was driving Michael quickly to his climax.

"Stop. Potter, stop."

Harry complied and gazed up at him. "Why? Is it not good?"

"It was bloody awful," Michael chuckled. "That's why I'm ready to spill my spunk. Let's do it together."

He motioned for Harry to stand and took him in hand. Harry followed suit. Leaning forward, Harry silently begged to be kissed. After all the oral stimulation, it didn't take either boy long to bring the other off.

Afterward, Michael took out his wand and cleaned them both up. He zipped up his trousers and put his robe back on. Harry frowned a bit as he did the same.

Michael grinned. "Thanks." He turned to leave.

"Wait," Harry called. "That's it?"

"Sorry?"

"I mean, don't you want to, I don't know, talk or something?"

Michael cocked his head. "You want to talk? About what?"

Harry shrugged. "Anything. Or, maybe we could-"

"Harry, this was just sex. You know that, right? That's the way it is around here. None of the birds will put out, so we get each other off. Well, those of us that swing both ways, anyway. Some of the blokes are only queer for other blokes."

"Oh."

"What happens in the broom closet, stays in here."

Harry was beginning to sense a theme at Hogwarts.

"I won't tell," Harry said.

"You're different though, aren't you?" Michael observed. "The way you wanted to kiss me, like it wasn't just a casual thing. You're looking for more."

Harry pursed his lips. As much as he enjoyed his encounter with Michael, he missed the emotional intimacy he'd shared with Harper, as brief as it was.

"Yeah, maybe."

"You really are special, Harry." Michael walked back and gave Harry another kiss. "Too special for this."

"Thanks, I guess."

"I won't tell either," Michael said. He left Harry alone in the broom closet.

Sliding down the wall to sit, Harry wondered what the hell he just did. Michael was right. Harry wanted more than a hit and run with someone he barely knew. He wanted a connection, with someone who understood him. Someone he could relate to. Someone like him. But there wasn't really anybody like him. Was there?

Getting up, he sighed. He peeked out of the door to make sure no one was looking and went to his room.

hdhdhdhdhd

The next day was Monday. The residents of Gryffindor dragged themselves out of bed. It was obvious from the tired faces all around the Great Hall that everyone was ready for the end of term.

Harry was still a little depressed about his rendezvous with Michael. Or rather his revelation afterward. One offs weren't for him. He still wanted a relationship, with a family, like he always did. Only thing was, he wanted it with another bloke. He didn't know if that was possible. He didn't even know if he would live long enough to find out.

Harry was finished with classes for the day after Potions, and was on his way up to Gryffindor when he heard someone behind him call his name. He turned to see Draco approaching.

"Can I talk to you?" the Slytherin asked.

"Sure." Harry's belly fluttered a little. Draco never asked to speak to him. It was always the other way around.

The pair found an alcove that wasn't exactly private, but it was out of the way.

"What is it?" asked Harry. "Have you changed your mind about letting me help you?"

"I told you, there's nothing you can do. I only wanted to tell you something."

Harry nodded, waiting for Draco to elaborate.

"I wanted to tell you where I hid your book."

"My Potions book? The term is pretty much over. Why now?"

Draco shrugged. "It can't help you cheat anymore, but there were some spells written in the margins. I thought you might need it for . . . "

"Fighting Voldemort?" Harry finished.

Draco didn't reply. He didn't need to. Harry could see it in his eyes. Though Draco was sticking to his plan, he seemed to be hoping that Harry would win.

"I hid it in the Room of Requirement."

"I _knew_ you were going in there," Harry gasped. "What were you doing?"

Ignoring Harry's question, Draco went on. "It's in a tall cupboard with a bust of some wizard on it."

"How am I supposed to get into the right room? I've already tried loads of times to follow you and it didn't work."

"What? You did?" Draco crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yes. Now tell me. What do I ask for?"

Draco huffed. "Ask for the room where everything is hidden. That's what you'll need. Go down the aisle past the vanishing cabinet."

"Vanishing cabinet," Harry whispered. He remembered Mr. Weasley telling him about one at Borgin and Burkes.

"One more thing," Draco said. "I put some sort of tiara on the bust, to make it easier to find. I should go."

"Wait," Harry grabbed his arm.

Draco looked down at the hand.

"I know you think it's too late, but it's not," Harry said. "Dumbledore will help you."

"Dumbledore is a fool," Draco said softly. "If he thinks I'm worth saving."

"Of course you are."

Shrugging off Harry's hand, Draco said, "How many times do I have to tell you. We're not friends. You can't help me. You don't understand."

"I would if you told me. I know you have to do something you don't want to do. Something everyone's expecting you to do."

Draco simply stared.

"I know exactly what that feels like," Harry said. "I understand-" He realized in that moment that there _was_ someone like him. Draco was one of the few people that actually could relate to him. He may have been somewhat on the flip side, but still. While he was pondering that thought, Draco had begun talking. Not that Harry was listening.

" . . . and nobody's around to see you, so you can stop pretending that you care."

"I _do_ care," insisted Harry. Before he knew what he was doing, Harry had practically flung himself at Draco, kissing him while holding him in place.

For the briefest of moments, Draco kissed back, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist.

Realizing they were in a public space, both broke free and stepped back, staring and blinking at the other.

"Harry, there you are!" Hermione called down the hall. "Jimmy Peakes just delivered this parchment for you. Dumbledore wants to see you in his office."

Draco looked away at the mention of the Headmaster's name. Harry cursed Hermione's timing. He and Draco had unfinished business. But if Dumbledore wanted to see Harry, it could only mean one thing. He'd figured out where to find a Horcrux.

"Harry," Hermione coaxed.

He nodded. As he walked away with her, he turned and gave a glance at Draco. The other boy did not return it as he walked in the opposite direction.


	9. should have known

***Bonus posting! Because of the brevity of this chapter, I figured I post early. The next chapter will post Friday or Saturday as usual.**

**I didn't feel the need to rehash everything that went on concerning Dumbledore's death, and Ron leaving and coming back. From this point to the end of Deathly Hallows (not including the epilogue, of course), I'll only include scenes that relate to Harry and Draco (scenes I've changed), and things I made up for this story. We all know what happens in between :) So this chapter and the next skip big chunks of time.**

**SlytherinLegacie 338- I'm not sure if Harry wanted a relationship with Michael in particular- just someone, and at the end there, he started to realize maybe Draco could be the one.**

**AnetteRuby- I don't like that idea at all**

**DamnItGranger- to be fair, the title of the chapter is _timing is everything_ lol**

**thanks to Hortensia and cassy1994 for also reading and reviewing.**

* * *

Harry's mind was reeling as he walked briskly toward Dumbledore's office.

_Oh my God, what did I just do?_ he asked himself.

He rubbed his hand over his perspiring forehead. In the span of a month, he'd not only discovered an attraction to his own gender, he'd managed to kiss three of them and get off with two. That wasn't the kind of man he wanted to be. He still wanted . . . love.

Did he want it from Harper? Or Michael? Or Draco? Did he have any idea? Harry wondered what the hell Draco thought about Harry practically molesting him. Theoretically, Draco should have been elated to have Harry kiss him.

Harry shook his head at the arrogance of that thought. The notion would never have entered his mind if Blaise hadn't inadvertently told Harry about Draco's crush. There was no mistaking that the kiss was returned. But as far as Harry knew, Draco thought he was straight. He wanted so much to go back and talk to the Slytherin. Actually, he wanted to do more than talk, but he would have settled for it.

At the moment though, he had to put all that out of his mind. Dumbledore needed him. They had a monumental task ahead of them and Harry couldn't afford to be distracted by his libido.

hdhdhdhdhd

Upon returning from the cave with the Horcrux, Harry, ever Dumbledore's obedient servant, was cursing himself for listening to the old man. Tricked, and being held by a body binding curse, Harry could only watch the events unfolding before him.

He desperately wanted to call out to Draco, horrified to learn it was Dumbledore that Draco was to kill. Had he been free to do so, Harry would have hexed the boy himself. Anything to save his mentor. He didn't understand how Dumbledore could be so calm. How he could let himself be disarmed so easily by someone who looked more scared than Harry felt?

But Draco kept putting it off. And Harry could tell that he didn't really want to kill the Headmaster. He'd even lowered his wand. It nearly broke Harry's heart to see the fear and regret in Draco's eyes. If only Draco had listened to Harry while he'd had the chance.

Harry's relief at seeing Snape was short lived. Dumbledore was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving Harry no longer bound, yet still unable to move. When he finally came to his senses, all he could feel was anger. He'd have time to mourn later.

Blinded by his anger with Snape, Harry followed the Death Eaters, and Draco. For Harry couldn't truly think of Draco as a Death Eater. He foolishly thought he could still save the boy, and possibly kill Snape in the process. But he was outmatched, and was forced to watch both of them slip through his fingers.

Later, when telling Ron and Hermione what happened, he left out the part about hoping to save Draco, or at least his soul.

hdhdhdhdhd

While hunting for Horcruxes instead of attending school, the days turned into months and tempers ran high. Ron left. Ron came back. And Harry was so happy that he decided it was finally time to be honest with his best friend.

As he and Ron sat outside the tent in which they had been staying, Hermione remained inside, still angry with Ron.

"She'll come around," Harry assured.

"Sure she will," slumped Ron. "The two of you probably got on better without me. The things that came out of the Horcrux-"

"Were lies," Harry finished for him. "She cried for a week. And that was what she allowed me to see. Sometimes I heard soft sobbing at night after that. I know the whole situation is worth a good cry over, but I'm certain a good many of those tears were for you."

Ron sighed. "Still . . . you and her-"

Harry chuckled. "Are friends to the end. But no more than friends." He paused. "Actually, there's something I need to tell you in regard to that. Something important."

"Is it about another Horcrux?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "It's more personal. And . . . well, it doesn't affect us, or, at least it shouldn't, but I still need to get it off my chest."

"Okay." Ron gave a sideways glance, unsure what direction Harry was headed.

It was a few minutes before Harry talked again.

"Hermione is like a sister to me. And, I assume, I'm like a brother to her. Sort of the same way I've come to think of . . . Ginny."

"Ginny? Is that why you never got together with her?"

"Partly. The other part is that . . ."

"There's someone else? But it's not Hermione, obviously."

"Sort of. Not necessarily a specific someone."

Ron frowned. "I don't understand. Harry, what are you trying to say? I know I'm not the swiftest bloke, but what am I missing?"

Harry rubbed his face. "I'm not interested in dating Ginny, or Hermione, or any girl for that matter." Harry let the words hang for a moment. "Because what I'm interested in is . . . boys."

Ron's head whipped around, his mouth hanging open.

"Merlin, you're not interested in _me_ are you?"

Harry didn't mean to laugh so hard. It shouldn't have been such a preposterous idea. Ron had a lot of positive qualities, or else Harry wouldn't have chosen him for a best friend.

"Hmph, it's not _that_ funny," Ron said indignantly. "I mean, I'm not such a bad catch, am I?"

"No, Ron. You're not a bad catch at all. I didn't mean to imply otherwise. Any girl would be lucky to have you." Harry gave a quick glance into the tent. "But I'm definitely not interested in you . . . that way."

Ron let out a long breath. "But you are interested in other blokes . . . that way?"

Harry nodded while biting his lip.

"How . . . when . . . has it always been that way?"

"No. I guess I just always thought I wasn't good with girls because of everything going on in my life. Lack of experience too, I suppose. But, then I met . . . someone who changed that."

"Who?"

"I don't think I'm quite ready to spill _all_ of my secrets. Suffice it to say that it was a boy at Hogwarts and he opened my eyes. I wasn't looking for it. I really wasn't." Harry smiled to himself. "At first, I went along with him because I didn't know what else to do. He was pretty persuasive. Then, I found myself seeking him out, wanting to spend time with him." Harry turned to Ron. "Is this making you feel uncomfortable?"

"No. Maybe a little."

"Sorry." Harry looked away.

"That doesn't mean you can't tell me." Ron chuckled. "You had to watch me and Lav snogging all the time, after all. Fair's fair."

"I'll spare you the details. But, once I finally admitted to myself that I actually liked him, other things began to make more sense."

"Like what?"

"Like, why I was so awkward around girls. Except for Hermione, that is. And my date with Cho was a total disaster. I didn't really know why. But it almost felt like I was being dragged into it."

"I know the feeling. The end with Lavender was like that. Breaking up with her was the best thing that happened to me last year. Not that I like blokes or anything. Same feeling, different reasons, I suppose."

"When it's not right, it's not right. The reason doesn't matter so much," Harry said. "And when it _is_ right . . ."

"Yeah," Ron smiled. He gave a quick glance toward the tent opening.

"So, you're all right with it?"

Ron's brow furrowed. "And if I wasn't?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I said I wasn't all right with you fancying blokes, would you stop?"

Harry laughed. "I don't think I can."

"Right. You don't need my approval. And I wouldn't be much of a mate if I thought less of you because of it."

They sat in silence while the noises of the forest came to life around them. Birds chirped cheerfully from up above, while small rodents foraged nearby, crunching the dry leaves. Ron took in a breath and turned to Harry to tell him he thought he saw a fox up a ways, but stopped before the words came out.

"Harry? You all right?"

Wiping away a tear, Harry nodded. "I don't know why I was so afraid to tell you. I should have known."

"Known what?"

"That you'd be you. Thank you," Harry choked out.

Ron reached out and pulled Harry into a hug.

hdhdhdhdhd


	10. the last battle

***This chapter is a combination of what actually happened in the book, combined with a little embellishment. In some places, I've paraphrased what's written in the book. In other places, I've taken directly from the text. I guess I should say that right here, so no one accuses me of plagiarism. J K Rowling gets all the credit for the characters and quotes I've taken from the book. 'nough said. It's funny that even some of the original dialogue works into my version.**

**Since Rowling didn't write anything about the Malfoys' fate, I took the liberty of coming up with one.**

**On another note, I was really kind of overwhelmed by the response to the past chapter. Thank you ALL so much for your kind words!**

* * *

They were caught. There was nothing they could do. Harry'd said Voldemort's name, and almost instantly, they were caught. Luckily, Hermione had the presence of mind to protect Harry he best she could.

The pain was excruciating but Harry understood.

With their wands confiscated, the trio had no choice but to allow themselves to be taken by Greyback and Scabior. Once Greyback put two and two together, and figured out who Harry really was, they were on their way to Malfoy Manor.

Narcissa was strangely polite to her 'guests'. Not so much Lucius. Harry hadn't noticed Draco sitting in a corner until his mother addressed him.

Harry caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror, barely recognizing the contorted face. He thought there was a chance that Draco wouldn't be able to positively identify him. Narcissa kept pushing Draco to get closer, to tell them whether or not Harry Potter was really in their home. There was a lot riding on Draco's assessment.

Though his eyes were so puffy, he could barely see through them, Harry could see Draco's face once he got close enough.

Their faces were close enough for Harry to see the striations in Draco's grey irises. When he had occupied Draco's body, he had become quite familiar with the slight color variations in Draco's eyes. To the casual observer, the younger Malfoy's eyes seemed the same cold grey as Lucius's, who stood beside his son. But upon intimate inspection, one could make out pale blues and greens. There was even a ring of very pale yellow right around each pupil. His left eye had what Harry could only describe as a freckle. Mainly because it reminded him of the ones on Ron's face. And it was nearly the same shade of faded orange. It fascinated Harry, and he had spent a lot of time looking at Draco's eyes in the mirror.

They stared at one another. Harry thought he saw a flicker of . . . _something_ in Draco's eyes. He did his best to convey how desperately he wanted Draco to deny him. If Draco said he wasn't Harry Potter, Voldemort wouldn't be called. He, Ron and Hermione were still in grave danger, but less so than from the Dark Lord himself.

Draco licked his lips, perhaps remembering their last encounter.

"I don't know," he abruptly left to go to his mother's side.

Inwardly, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. But Draco couldn't get out of identifying Hermione, or Ron. They looked like themselves and the adults in the room had seen them on occasion as well. Reluctantly, Draco admitted they were Harry's friends. The only thing that stopped them from calling Voldemort was the sword of Gryffindor. When Bellatrix spotted it, she had a fit. At the time, Harry didn't know why. Didn't care. All he knew was that they were getting a small reprieve. He had no idea it was about to get much worse, for Hermione.

Hatching a plan, and executing it while Hermione's screams echoed through the castle was no small feat. A few times, Harry thought Ron would be uselessly thrown into despair. But they managed, with the help of Dobby, to get the others out of the cellar.

When Lucius called for Draco to check the noises in the cellar, Harry hoped for another chance to convince him to join them. But Lucius had changed his mind and sent Wormtail instead.

No one was more surprised than Harry that Voldemort's pet had strangled himself with his rogue metal hand. He and Ron didn't have time to make sense of it. They got the chance they needed to escape and rescue Hermione.

Once again finding themselves outmatched, Ron and Harry were forced to drop the wands they had snatched from Wormtail and Bellatrix, allowing Draco to pick them up. The Dark Lord had been called and Harry knew it was only a matter of moments before their fates would be sealed.

With Dobby to distract them all with a falling chandelier, though, Harry had hope. Ron scooped Hermione out from under the debris and Harry leapt at Draco, whose face was covered with blood from shards of shattered glass.

"Come with us," Harry said desperately.

"I can't."

"He's coming. Any moment now, the Dark Lord will be here."

"I can't leave my parents."

"But he'll kill you."

"Then so be it." Draco replied somberly.

"Draco," Harry cried in anguish. He didn't have time to spare. He ripped the wands from Draco's hands and turned to Griphook, who was still in the wreckage of the fallen chandelier. He threw a wand to Ron and told him to go. He picked up the goblin, clutching the Sword of Gryffindor, and took Dobby's hand.

As they disapparated away, he caught one more glimpse of Draco. The boy didn't turn him in. And Harry couldn't repay the favor. Before he knew it, they were at Bill and Fleur's cottage, where he would find that things were even worse.

hdhdhdhdhd

In the days and weeks that followed, Harry's sadness at losing Dobby was kept at bay by busying himself with plans to continue the Horcrux hunt. In the back of his mind, though, he wondered what had become of Voldemort's followers after he and the others left the manor, Draco in particular. He wasn't exaggerating when he told Draco he thought that Voldemort was going to kill them. Though he hadn't known for certain, he would have bet all his galleons. Harry dearly hoped Draco was still alive.

After retrieving the small gold cup from Bellatrix's vault, then sneaking into Hogwarts, Harry was much too preoccupied to think about Draco. He was seeing more and more into the Dark Lord's mind. And they were so close to finding the next Horcrux in the castle.

His talk with Helena Ravenclaw went better than expected. Harry knew what he was looking for, but still not where to find it. As he made his way through the castle, meeting up with Hagrid at one point, his memory was jogged by the dismembered heads of the gargoyles they had to step over. They reminded him of the stone statue in Ravenclaw Tower wearing the diadem.

Suddenly, Draco was once again forefront in Harry's mind. He recalled their last strange conversation before Dumbledore was killed. Draco was telling him where to find his potions book. Harry never did go back to retrieve it, but that wasn't important at the moment. The book was immaterial. But Draco mentioned a tiara that he put on top of a bust. He had held the lost diadem of Ravenclaw in his hand and never knew it.

Finally catching up with Ron and Hermione (and having to watch their ill-timed first kiss), Harry got into the Room of Requirement. The trio set about looking for the diadem.

"Hold it, Potter."

Harry turned toward the voice to see Crabbe and Goyle with their wands pointed at them. Behind them stood Draco.

"That's my wand," Draco said.

Harry looked down. Yes, he had taken to Draco's wand over the others. It was familiar to him, and it seemed to remember him as well. He'd almost forgotten that it didn't really belong to him, despite what Ollivander told him about ownership of wands.

"I need it," Harry told him. "Who's lent you theirs?"

"My mother."

Harry recalled Narcissa being disarmed, but neither he nor Ron picked up the tossed wand. "Why aren't you with Voldemort?"

"We're gonna be rewarded," said Crabbe. "We decided to bring you to 'im."

Harry scoffed. He slowly edged backward toward the cupboard that housed the potions book, bust and diadem, never taking his eyes off Draco's face.

Crabbe, ever the eloquent one, continued. "We was hiding, then you turned up right in front of us and said you was looking for a die-dum. What's a die-dum?"

Just for a moment, Harry's eyes flickered up to the crown. He noticed Draco do the same thing. Draco knew what a diadem was, even if he didn't know it was a Horcrux.

Ron's voice from around the corner caused Crabbe to panic and cast a _Descendo_ at the mountain of junk. It fell next to Ron, but thankfully missed him.

Draco stopped Crabbe from trying the spell again. Harry heard him say that Crabbe might bury the diadem if he topped the pile. It was then that Harry realized Draco was finally beginning to have hope. He wanted Harry to find what he was looking for.

But Crabbe wasn't having any of it. He didn't want to hear Draco's excuse for why they should let Harry find the diadem. He tried to cast a _Crucio_ at Harry, hitting the bust with the diadem on it instead. Harry watched as it flew into the air and out of reach once again.

"Stop!" Draco yelled at Crabbe, restraining his arm. "Don't kill him."

"I'm not killing him, am I?" A Stunning Spell barely missed Crabbe as Draco pulled him out of the way.

Unfortunately, that left Crabbe free to cast the Killing Spell at Hermione, which, thankfully, missed. Furious at Crabbe, Harry sent his own Stunning Spell his way. The oaf moved out of the way, knocking Draco's wand out of his hand, leaving him unarmed.

"Don't kill him! Don't kill him!" Draco begged. He hid out of the way, unable to do anything without his wand.

Goyle was finally hit with a Stunning Spell after he'd been disarmed by Harry. Crabbe was the only one of the three boys who still had a wand.

Unfortunately.

The Fiendfyre quickly engulfed the room, sending all of them running for their lives, except for Goyle, who was still out cold. Draco had grabbed him, trying to drag him along to safety.

After losing track of the Slytherins, Harry found a couple of old brooms, handing one to Ron, for him and Hermione. Harry's mind raced as they flew in an attempt to escape. Where was Draco? Would he make it out alive? It would be a tragedy if he died a meaningless death after seeming to change his ways, going so far as to protect Harry from his friends. Then Harry heard the scream.

"It's too dangerous!" Ron yelled, knowing what Harry was most likely thinking. But Harry wasn't listening. He had to find them. His conscience wouldn't stand for anything less.

He made a pass, trying to grasp Draco's hand. But Goyle was too heavy for Draco to get onto Harry's broom alone. His hands were sweaty and he lost his grip on Harry's hand.

"If we die for them, I'll kill you, Harry!" Ron yelled. But he and Hermione dragged Goyle onto their broom anyway, leaving Harry to retrieve Draco.

Draco held tight around Harry's waist, resting his cheek on Harry's back.

"Thank you. Thank you." Black smoke billowed up, making it difficult to breathe. "The door! Get to the door!"

Harry followed Ron and Hermione's broom, but then caught sight of the lost diadem. He doubled back, provoking Draco to yell at him again. Harry wasn't dissuaded, and he caught the crown around his wrist. And once more, Harry flew toward what he hoped was the door out.

"That way," Draco pointed.

Harry saw it, a small rectangular patch on the wall. That had to be it. Knowing they would make it out after all, Harry allowed himself to be aware of his current situation. Draco had tried to keep Crabbe and Goyle from killing him, and he, in turn saved Draco's life. Despite the hot air all around them from the flames, Harry could still feel Draco's breath on his neck. He could feel Draco's arms wrapped tightly around him. Not in fear. Well, not _only_ in fear. His embrace was not merely the clutching on of a person afraid for his life. There was something tender in it.

Again, Draco choked out, "Thank you."

They reached the entrance and tumbled out, struggling for breath, coughing, and retching. The five of them sat panting, coming down from their ordeal. The door to the Room of Requirement closed.

"C-Crabbe?" Draco seemed to have just realized he was missing a companion. "C-Crabbe?"

"He's dead," Ron said harshly.

Draco paled and looked at Harry. Harry looked back.

"Draco, I-" An explosion rocked the castle, distracting them all. the battle was still going on around them. There wasn't time for any sort of meaningful conversation between the two of them.

The diadem in Harry's hand broke apart, destroyed by the fiendfyre. The next thing he knew, Harry was being pulled along by his friends to move on to their next task. He gave a last look to Draco, on the floor next to Goyle, who was still unconscious.

Draco appeared torn between staying and helping Greg, and joining Harry. There was no way Ron and Hermione would have let him come with them, so it was for the best that Draco remained on the floor.

Harry only saw Draco twice more that night. Once briefly, as he was trying to convince a Death Eater not to attack him. Ron punched him from under the invisibility cloak for being two-faced. But Harry knew that Draco was only doing what he had to do to survive. The second time he caught sight of him was after it was all over. Draco sat with his parents in the Great Hall, looking very much out of place, yet no one asked them to leave. Harry thought perhaps in light of their celebration, the good folks of Hogwarts and their families could afford to be a little charitable.

hdhdhdhdhd

In the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts, many Death Eaters were prosecuted, and persecuted. Occasionally, justice was doled out in private rather than through the courts of the Ministry. The Malfoys, being a prominent pureblood family, were not able to escape accusations for their part in the war.

Lucius, well known as a Death Eater, was charged with aiding and abetting known criminals in his home, and being an accessory to the death of Professor Charity Burbage, in addition to several other charges. Even though Narcissa didn't carry the Dark Mark herself, she was also accused of harboring criminals. Draco's status was hidden, and because of his age was not formally charged with any crimes.

At the Malfoys' trial, Harry asked to be heard. Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new Minister of Magic allowed it, much to the protests of several members of the Wizengamot.

"I'm not saying that the Malfoys are completely innocent," Harry told the court. "But, there were times, when my mind was connected to Voldemort's." He could hear several soft gasps, even several weeks after theDark Lord's death. The name instilled fear, even then.

He continued. "I could see, and feel what Voldemort could. He was ruthless and persuasive. Anyone who went against him, even the most loyal of servants, was not spared his wrath. I believe the Malfoys had no choice but to open up their home to him and the Death Eaters."

There were murmurs in the court room as members of the Wizengamot debated Harry's account. Not that they didn't believe him. Some merely didn't think fear excused the Malfoys' actions.

"I can't speak to whether or not Mr. Malfoy had committed other crimes, but he was forced to obey Voldemort's commands. And, through my connection, I could see the apprehension on Lucius Malfoy's face. I do believe he regretted it."

"That's all well and good," the member of the Wizengamot who was handling the prosecution said condescendingly. "But you are not denying that he committed the crime. Charity Burbage was murdered in the Malfoys' very home, in front of witnesses, and they did nothing to stop it."

"No one dared to," Harry was quick to say. "Not just the Malfoys. But it was Voldemort himself who cast the killing spell."

"Hmph. If that is all-"

"No," Harry said. "I didn't come here only to make excuses for the Malfoys. I came to tell the court what it doesn't know about the Malfoys helping me."

More murmurs among the Wizengamot.

The lead prosecutor laughed. "Are we to believe that Death Eaters helped you in any way, when you yourself just got finished saying they were too afraid to go against . . . the Dark Lord?" The man couldn't bring himself to say the name.

Harry nodded. "Yes. Despite their fear, they helped me. In fact, if it weren't for Narcissa Malfoy and . . . Draco." Harry swallowed, and wondered if anyone noticed the way his voice cracked and the blood rushed to his face when he said Draco's name. The memory of Draco holding on tightly to him on the broomstick kept popping into his mind. "I wouldn't have been able to defeat Voldemort."

The murmurs of the court room grew, some to raised voices of incredulity. Kingsley banged his gavel and called for quiet, addressing Harry himself.

"Please, Harry, explain yourself."

Nodding, Harry glanced to Narcissa, sitting stoically along with her family. Draco chose to sit beside them, even though he had not been formally charged.

"When I went to the woods, to give myself to Voldemort, I fully expected to die. But, something strange happened, and only the part that was connected to Voldemort died. And I found myself coming to consciousness on the floor of the woods. I knew, the moment he realized I wasn't actually dead, Voldemort would try again, and he would succeed in killing me."

The court room was silent as Harry recounted the story he hadn't told anyone outside his close circle of friends.

"Someone approached me. Someone who was supposed to verify my death. It was Mrs. Malfoy. She leaned over me and whispered, asking me if . . . her son was safe and if he was in Hogwarts." Harry avoided Draco's name, and his gaze, to keep from blushing. "I whispered back that yes, he was safe, as far as I knew. She sat up and, to my surprise, announced that I was dead."

More gasps. Narcissa's mouth dropped open slightly, while Lucius turned to her and gaped. Apparently, she hadn't told Lucius what she had done. A small smile grew on Draco's face. Kingsley banged his gavel once more.

"Because he thought I was dead, Voldemort became too confident. And I was able to escape and confront him on my own terms. Which, as you all know, I did."

"Yes, Harry," Kingsely bowed his head slightly. "For which, the wizarding world will be forever in your debt."

"And I will be forever in Narcissa Malfoy's debt." Harry addressed the Wizengamot as a whole. "I ask you to spare her. It took a great deal of courage to go against Voldemort. I know she did it for her son, not necessarily for me. But still, they did not fight against us when they entered the castle. They changed sides, perhaps a little late, but they made a difference."

Harry was about to tell the court about Draco's role, how he refused to identify him to Bellatrix. Kingsley had other ideas.

"Wizengamot, it is time for a decision. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy stand accused of harboring known criminals and committing crimes against the Ministry. We have heard testimony from several witnesses. I ask now for a vote."

The Wizengamot deliberated after casting a _Muffliato_ on nonmembers of the court. While Harry sat off to the side, he could feel Draco's gaze on him. He looked up in time to see Draco glance away, a slight blush on his face. Because of the _Muffliato_, Harry knew it would be useless to try and talk to him. So he decided to wait until the Wizengamot came to a decision.

In a surprisingly short amount of time, the charm was removed and the members of the Wizengamot returned to their respective places.

"You have agreed on a verdict?" Shacklebolt asked.

"We have." The senior member stood, prompting the Malfoys to stand as well.

Shacklebolt nodded. "What say you?"

"Lucius Malfoy, due to overwhelming evidence connecting you to the crimes of which you have been accused, this court has found you guilty."

While Narcissa and Lucius remained emotionless, Draco turned to Harry with panic on his face. But there was nothing more Harry could do.

"In light of Mr. Potter's testimony, however, we have decided to reduce the traditional sentence of time in Azkaban to three years of house arrest. Lucius Malfoy shall also make reparations in the form of service to the wizarding community."

For the first time, Harry saw a chink in Lucius' façade. The man appeared beyond relieved.

"Thank you," Lucius bowed. He reached for Narcissa'a hand.

"Narcissa Malfoy." She turned her attention to the senior Wizengamot. "While the courts cannot condone your prior actions, you have proven yourself an ally to the wizarding world. Therefore, the charges against you have been dismissed."

She collapsed back into her chair, as Draco and Lucius descended upon her, a pile of Malfoys grateful for their ultimate fate.

Harry was satisfied. And he believed the rest of the wizarding world would see that justice had been served. Lucius had not gotten off completely, though his movements would be severely restricted. The man was luckier than most Death Eaters who had been caught so far. Those who had not been sentenced to Azkaban had been killed resisting their capture. There were plenty of them still at large, and their fates would be no better.

As Lucius' sentence was to begin immediately, the Malfoys were being escorted out of the room before Harry realized it.

"Wait." He leapt from his seat. "Wait, I want to talk to them."

The guard escorting them stopped and the three Malfoys turned to him.

Narcissa allowed herself to smile. "Thank you, Harry Potter, for our freedom." She glanced at Lucius. "Freedom, compared to what might have been."

Lucius tentatively held out his hand. It reminded Harry of years ago, at Madam Malkin's, when Draco had done the same. Harry looked down at the hand. This man had done wrong, so much wrong — against him, against Ginny, against Dumbledore. But the war was over, and this man was Draco's father. Ever taking the high road, Harry shook the hand.

"I appreciate all you've done for my family," Lucius said. "I-I'm not certain why you did it. But I- _we_ are all grateful."

Harry nodded, then addressed Narcissa particularly. "I never did get a chance to thank you for what you did in the forest. It took great courage. I meant what I said. I am in your debt."

"Which you have repaid," she said. "Let this be a fresh start for us." She gave Draco a quick look. "For _all_ of us."

"Agreed."

The whole while, Draco looked as if he had something to say, but he kept quiet. In the end, he merely held out his hand, the way his father had. When Harry took it, his mouth suddenly went dry. Draco looked him in the eye and whispered softly.

"Thank you."

"Any time," Harry said, then rolled his eyes at his awkward response.

"Time to move along," the guard said. He took out his wand as they moved out the door, in case some overzealous bystander decided that Lucius had gotten off too easily.

"Oh, wait," Harry yelled. He strode up to Draco. "I have your wand."

"I thought you needed it."

Harry took out his own wand. "I was able to repair it."

"How?"

"I . . . it's probably better if I don't talk about that."

Draco looked disappointed, but his expression changed when Harry handed him his wand. Narcissa's wand had been lost in the fiendfyre, and Lucius had lost his to Voldemort himself. For weeks, the Malfoys had been defenseless without any of their wands. Neither Narcissa, nor Lucius had been allowed to commission a new one. Draco knew Harry had his and he had hoped to eventually get it back.

"Your mother should be allowed to get a new wand now that the charges have been dropped," Harry smiled.

Draco nodded, feeling the familiar weight of his wand. "Thank you."

Harry chuckled. "I think we've all been saying that a lot lately. Why don't we agree that we're all grateful, and there's no need to say it anymore."

Because Lucius was the only family member that officially needed an escort, the party began to move on, leaving Draco behind.

"I should, um, probably go," Draco stammered.

"Yeah, I reckon you have some celebrating to do."

"Yeah. Tha-" Draco stopped himself and he and Harry shared a laugh.

They stood, facing each other, neither wanting to leave, yet neither saying they wanted to stay.

"Well, maybe we'll run into each other sometime," Draco finally found the courage to say.

"Yeah, maybe."

Draco turned and swiftly caught up to his parents. Before the guard disapparated them away, Draco glanced back to Harry one more time.

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***just a side note, if you look on page 523 of The Deathly Hallows, Hermione asks Harry how Ron looks with his disguise. His answer?**

**"Well, he's not my type, but he'll do." lol I'll take that as proof that ****Harry really is gay**


	11. don't be a stranger

***SlytherinLegacie338- oh, there will be more chapters. Actually working on chapter 15 at the moment. I always like a happy resolution.**

**YinKeket-as usual, thank you so much for your entertaining reviews. It's nice to now what you think of the action as it happens. lol**

**HowlingRain-although I really appreciate reviews (who doesn't?) don't feel badly about not reviewing every chapter. I'm glad you're continuing to read.**

**Thanks to shealone, cassy1994, and WitchRavenFox for also reading and reviewing!**

**On a side note, if anyone is interested, I have a few stories on FictionPress. _Brian and Carey_ is complete. It's a coming of age/coming out story about two boys in high school through their early twenties. Not graphic, mainly rated for language and implied sexual situations. _Bringing Down the Average_ is still ongoing. That one is a little harder to define. The main character is a straight woman in her early/mid forties who's feeling hopeless. But it also heavily features two young gay men trying to find themselves. It's also rated M, for language and more graphic sex scenes. I hope you'll check them out. (I'm Reverie Wilde there, too)**

**Also, I recommend a new book available on Amazon for Kindle. It's called _Love in the Wasteland_ by ST March. It's got something for everyone-especially hot men looking for love in a post apocalyptic America. It's a great original story. (as in, not written from fanfiction) Please take a look. And if you like it, leave a review.**

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As he strolled along the cobblestones in Diagon Alley, Harry peered into store fronts. The Alley was beginning to come back to life after being ravaged by the war. Some shops had been lucky enough to hold on by a thread, such as Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. But others had been abandoned or destroyed by rampant Death Eaters. Therefore, there were still empty spaces. However, Harry counted more shops open for business than the last time he walked the area.

Nearly three months after the war ended, there was a spring in Harry's step that had never been there before. As he made his way toward one of the cafes to meet Ron and Hermione, he was full of life and ready to experience it all.

He thought about his friends, how it took nearly being killed for them to realize how they felt about each other. No one was surprised that the pair began dating, and were almost inseparable. On the other hand, everyone _was_ surprised that Harry didn't pursue Ginny once the war was over. He explained to her that he simply wasn't ready to settle down with one girl. He needed time to find out who Harry Potter was, besides being the Boy who Lived. He conveniently left out the part that he didn't want to settle down with _any_ girl.

Harry knew asking Ron and Hermione to keep his secret was putting them in an awkward position. But the spotlight, and magnifying glass, was still on him as the hero of the wizarding world. Unsure how that world would take the news, Harry decided to keep his relatively new-found sexuality to himself. Perhaps not completely to himself. Harry had volunteered to help with the rebuilding of Hogwarts at the beginning of the summer. He and Michael Corner shared a celebratory mutual masturbation session in one of the surviving class rooms. And during a break, exploring muggle London, he'd been propositioned at a club. It was a satisfactory experience, his first as the recipient of rimming, but he wanted more than anonymous groping, no matter how good it may have felt at the time.

He may not have been ready for marriage, but a boyfriend would have been nice.

Harry spotted Ron's hair glowing in the brief moment of sunlight while Hermione waved enthusiastically. Grinning, he weaved through the round tables outside the cafe and sat down with his friends.

"You're looking well," commented Hermione as she hugged him tightly. "Your holiday in London must have agreed with you."

"Yes, very much," Harry smiled. "How have you been? Are you really going back to Hogwarts to complete your N.E.W.T.s?"

"Of course. And I still think the pair of you should also go back."

"Mione, you know Harry and I are have been accepted into the Auror program even without our N.E.W.T.s."

"We'll learn all we need to know in the program," Harry added. "And it's not as though they're just going to throw us into the job. Technically, we'll be in training two years longer than you'll be in school."

Hermione cocked her head. "I suppose. Still, I'm looking forward to being at Hogwarts without all the excitement. And possibly Ginny and I will get to share a room."

"How is Ginny?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"She's fine," answered Hermione. "She, um, she's got a new boyfriend."

"Oh."

"She wasn't going to sit around and wait for you, luckily," Ron said.

"Ron," Harry whinged.

"You can hardly be disappointed Harry."

"I'm not disappointed."

Ron pursed his lips. "I still think you should have told her the truth. And I know you've been avoiding coming to my parents' house. Nobody will care, Harry."

"Yeah, but . . ."

"As much as we've teased Percy over the years, we didn't really mean anything by it."

"Percy's gay?"

"No." Ron laughed. "But he would get so cheesed off when we suggested he was, we couldn't help ourselves. It was a bit of payback for siding with the crooked Ministry." He lay a hand on Harry's arm. "Really though, if he were, we wouldn't have taken the piss with him."

Harry nodded. "I guess I'll have to confess if I expect to have any sort of normal relationship with someone."

"Confess? You make it sound like you have committed a crime," Hermione frowned.

"Some people might say I have."

"Bollocks," hissed Ron. "I say you live how you want to live. If anybody doesn't like it, fuck 'em. But, before you do, tell Ginny." He paused. "You know, Mum still has supper every Sunday. We could have an early birthday celebration."

Harry smiled. "I'd like that."

They ordered and ate their lunch while Hermione went on about her upcoming year at Hogwarts. She had already studied the curriculum and told them what they were going to be missing out on. Ron occasionally glanced at Harry with feigned disappointment. Hermione swatted his shoulder, but it was all in fun. She knew the pair of them would be much happier in the Auror program.

When Hermione excused herself to the loo, Harry took the opportunity as Ron about their relationship.

Ron blushed. "It's going fine."

"Only fine? Ron, I haven't seen you so mooney-eyed since you ate Romilda Vane's love potion laced chocolates."

"What can I say? I'm a fool in love."

"Mione looks just as smitten," Harry smiled. "I'm happy for you both. Now don't go run off to get married without me."

"Married? Blimey, it's only been a few months. I haven't even gotten her bra off."

It was Harry's turn to blush.

"What? We're both eighteen. Anyway, I've got to make it through the Auror program before I can think about getting married. And I'd like to make it into her knickers before I go off into the Auror program."

"Ron!"

Ron laughed at Harry's embarrassment. But he didn't want to waste any of his time with Hermione. They'd come too close to dying, too many times. "Anyway, I can't imagine any girl as perfect as her," Ron sighed. "But what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Don't you want all this?"

"It would be nice."

"I'm sure there are loads of wizards who'd give their wand for a chance to be with you."

Harry wiggled his eyebrows. "What good is a wizard without his wand?"

"Ugh, mate."

"I don't even want to know what conversation I walked into," Hermione said, returning to the table. "I should probably get back home. It's Mum's birthday and we're going out to supper. I'm trying to spend as much time as I can with my parents before I go back to Hogwarts."

"So, their memories are fully restored?" asked Harry.

"Yes, a memory specialist at the Ministry helped. I didn't trust myself to do a thorough job."

"I'll see you home," Ron offered.

Hermione looked to Harry. "Who knew he could be such a gentleman?"

"I've sure got her fooled."

Harry laughed. "I don't think you have anyone fooled, Ron. You take after your father."

"Oi, do you want to go out later, after I've taken Hermione home? Wednesdays are two for one butter beers at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Oh, maybe another time. I was planning to do some shopping. Grimmauld Place sure could use some brightening up. And I might get an owl," Harry said sadly.

Hermione pressed her lips together and gave his hand a squeeze. "It won't be the same, but I think it's a good idea."

"Maybe a brown one this time, so it doesn't feel like I'm trying to replace Hedwig."

"Would you like us to go with you?" she offered.

"No. Go out with your parents. I'll be fine."

"I reckon I'll drag Charlie out with me then," said Ron. "He's only in town until Monday, then he has to go back to Romania."

The three friends hugged goodbye, and Harry watched Ron and Hermione take hold of each other's hands as they walked away. He did want that. He was tired of living in secret.

Harry left the cafe and wandered the alleyway. Eeylops was not yet back in business, but The Menagerie was. He stopped in to look around, but none of the owls seemed quite right for him. For a moment, he considered a cat to keep him company, then dismissed it. When he began Auror training, he wouldn't be around much to take care of it. The girl working there told him that a new shipment of animals was due on Tuesday.

In the junk shop, Harry found a glass lamp which projected the night sky on the wall and ceiling of a dark room. He thought he might purchase it for Teddy to use as a night light. But the constellations reminded him of his time with Harper. He decided to keep it for himself. Not finding anything else to his liking, Harry left the shop. He figured he'd have better luck finding proper furniture and decor in muggle shops.

While deciding where to go next, he stood under an awning, just watching passersby. Most that noticed him smiled and nodded. One or two stopped short and actually bowed, which made Harry feel a bit uncomfortable. It was time to move on. An ice cream would cool him off on the warm, July day, so he headed off to Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. He had happy memories of Florean Fortescue from his younger days. However, the man had been taken away by Death Eaters, never to return. His nephew eventually inherited the shop and brought it back to its former glory.

On his way to the ice cream parlor, Harry passed another cafe. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Draco and Harper sitting together at a table.

Not knowing, for the life of him, what made him do it, Harry approached the pair. They looked up simultaneously with matching expressions of wonder.

Harper stood. "Mr. Potter. Lovely to see you." His tune had certainly changed from the last time they spoke. Harry supposed a war changed one's perspective.

"Please, Harper, call me Harry."

"Y-yes sir, Harry." Then his eyes bugged out. "You- you know my name?"

Harry looked to Draco. He wasn't sure how to explain why he would know a Slytherin below him in year.

"Potter and I have spoken several times since the war ended. I may have mentioned you."

"Oh." Harper sat back down.

"Are you here . . . together?" Harry questioned.

"Yes," Harper replied, while Draco answered "no."

"Well, technically we are here together," Draco clarified. "But not as a couple, if that's what you're asking."

"Oh." Harry tried not to look too happy. "How, um, how are you both?"

Draco remained quiet, prompting Harper to answer first. "Looking forward to getting back to Hogwarts. Last year was . . . a disaster." He gasped. "Oh, how could I be so stupid?"

"It's okay, Harper. I wasn't the only one who had a difficult year." He wanted to say more. The guilt of having a hand in Harper's broken heart weighed heavily on him. But that was over a year ago. He couldn't help wondering why they were at the cafe together.

"Harper, would you mind fetching me another tea?" Draco asked sweetly.

"Of course." Harper jumped up and went inside the cafe.

He was barely out of earshot when Harry questioned, "What's going on?"

"We ran into each other while helping with the rebuilding project."

"At Hogwarts? You're helping?"

"You don't need to look so surprised. I thought you understood that my family has turned around."

"Well, yes, I-"

"Isn't that what you testifying was all about?"

"Yes." Harry felt somewhat ashamed for his initial reaction. At least until he saw the smirk on Draco's face. "Are you taking the piss?"

The smirk grew into a full smile. "My father has service to the community, remember? I decided to join him."

"I was there most of June," Harry said, not wanting Draco to think that the hadn't helped with the rebuilding himself.

"I heard."

"Draco, I–"

"Here you go," Harper interrupted with Draco's tea.

"Bloody hell," Harry muttered under his breath. Every time he tried to talk to Draco on a more personal level, something always got in the way. He sighed. "Well, I suppose I ought to leave the two of you to your . . . um, whatever."

Harry turned to leave, frustrated with himself for not having the bollocks to just come out and say what he wanted to say.

"Potter."

Harry turned back.

"Don't be a stranger."

It was the second time Draco had left him with what sounded like a come-on. Standing speechless, Harry blinked a few times, then nodded and left.

He had been on his way to Fortescue's for ice cream before he spotted Draco and Harper, so he continued on his way. He ordered a cone of strawberry and peanut butter ice cream and chose a seat under a bright red umbrella.

While he licked at his ice cream, he thought about his encounter with Draco and Harper. Harper looked well, Harry couldn't help noticing. But he'd realized long ago that it was Draco Harper really wanted. The longer Harry was away from the other boy, the more faded his feelings for him became. Even if, for some reason, Harper wanted to start a relationship with Harry, Harry was no longer interested. They would never be able to recreate the past. And the truth that harry couldn't tell would hang over them. He was well over it.

On the other hand, going for long stretches without seeing Draco only seemed to make Harry want to see him more. If only he'd had the nerve to—

"You're dripping all over the place." A voice brought Harry out of his reverie.

"Huh?"

"One might think you don't know how to use that tongue."

Draco was standing in front of him, and all Harry could do was stare.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake." Draco wrapped his hand over Harry's and held the cone up to his mouth. He licked around the edge and up the sides while Harry sputtered and coughed. Draco's pink tongue expertly swirled around, catching all the drips until he had licked to the very top. He released Harry's hand and sat down in the chair next to his.

"What _is_ that?"

"Stra- uh, strawberry and peanut butter." The hand not holding the cone subconsciously moved under the table to cover his crotch. The sight of Draco licking his ice cream was beginning to do things to Harry that were out of his control.

"How American."

"What are you doing here? I thought you were having tea with Harper."

"Our business was finished. I think you and I need to talk."

Harry nodded.

"I'll talk. You eat your ice cream," Draco said. "I don't want to have to do that again." He made a face. Clearly, he did not share Harry's taste in ice cream.

Feeling extremely self-conscious, Harry licked at the melting confection. He dearly wished he'd gotten a sundae which he could eat with a spoon.

Draco sighed heavily. "I've been thinking. If you want, I would be all right with telling Harper about our switch Sixth Year. You know, explain to him what happened, and that it was really you. If you wanted, that is. Maybe he'd see clear to give you another chance?"

Harry was dumbfounded again. Apparently, Harry was better at hiding his feelings toward Draco than he thought. Either that, or the boy was even more oblivious than Ron when it came to that sort of thing.

"No. That's all right. What happened with Harper was . . . well, there were extenuating circumstances, weren't there?"

Draco agreed. Both of them did things out of character in order to fit in.

"And I haven't even told Ron and Hermione about the switch. It wouldn't feel right to tell someone else and not them. Snape is the only other person who knew, so I think it's best to keep it to ourselves."

"Probably. So, you're saying the thing with Harper was just a temporary . . ."

"Yes. A temporary situation brought about by circumstances. I was trying to be someone I wasn't."

"Oh. All right. That's what I thought."

Harry continued to lick at his cone.

After a few moments of silence, Draco spoke up again. "Then, can I ask you something?"

Harry nodded slowly, feeling nervous for Draco's question.

"Why did you–"

"Harry!" someone squealed.

"Merlin's _fucking_ beard!" Harry cursed. "What the fuck is it now?" He looked up to see Ginny quite taken aback. "Shit. Ginny, I'm sorry. I . . . how are you?"

He stood and kissed her cheek before giving her a light one-handed hug. At least he was aware enough to try and keep from dripping his ice cream on her.

"Are you all right Harry?" she asked when they pulled away.

"Yes. It's just that . . . I'm very happy to see you, but I've been trying to have this conversation with —where did he go?" Harry's eyes darted around the Alleyway, trying to catch a glimpse of where Draco and gone.

"He's gone," she said. "Why were you sitting with Draco Malfoy?"

"We have unfinished business. And I've been trying to have a conversation with him, but it keeps getting interrupted."

"What sort of unfinished business? I thought you testified for his family. He's not still giving you a hard time, is he?"

"No. It's not like that." He glanced around again, hoping to spot Draco.

"Harry? What's wrong?"

He started to shake his head, to tell her everything was fine. But he bit his lip, and his eyes began to water.

Ginny caressed his cheek. "Something's bothering you. I want to help." She took the cone from his hand and threw it in the trash, then cleaned him up with a _Scourgify_.

"Come on," she said, taking him by the arm and disapparating them away.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"A muggle park just outside London."

"It's beautiful."

Ginny led him to a park bench where they sat facing one another with one leg tucked under their bottoms. She took his hands in hers.

"Harry, I love you–"

"Gin–"

"Let me finish, please. I love you, Harry. I have since I was eleven. And I probably always will. I understand completely about needing to find what you want out of life, though. Not wanting to be tied down to any one girl. I get that. I do. And maybe a small part of me wants to see what's out there before settling down too. Besides, I still have to finish at Hogwarts."

Harry gazed back at her while she talked. Her hair had darkened a bit over the years to a lovely copper color that reminded him of a sunset. Her eyes were clear blue and full of life. The sprinkling of freckles across her nose was just the right amount. She had become a beautiful young lady. But he had absolutely no desire to kiss her.

She continued. "I love you, Harry. And sometimes loving someone means knowing when to back off." She smiled. "But I don't think now is the time. Something is wrong. I have never known you to be on the verge of tears for no reason. Please. I want to help."

He moved his hands so that they were grasping hers rather than the other way around. He took in a deep breath.

"I owe you the truth. I need to tell you the real reason I can't be with you. It isn't because you aren't beautiful, because you are. You are one of the kindest, most brilliant witches I have ever known. And I do love you."

"But not in a romantic way?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

She shook her head. It was hard to hear, but she needed to hear it.

"It isn't you, Ginny, it's me. I know that sounds cliche, and yet it's so very true," he chuckled. "I . . . don't think I'll ever feel romantic love for _any_ girl."

"Of course you will," she giggled. "Just because you haven't found it yet . . ."

"No, Gin. I won't ever find it. Not with a _girl_, anyway." He glanced away, hoping she would catch his meaning.

"Oh." Ginny paused, digesting Harry's words. "Not with a girl. But maybe . . . with . . . a boy?"

Harry closed his eyes. He could feel his face burn. He hadn't been nearly as embarrassed to tell Ron or Hermione. When she remained silent, he opened his eyes.

Suddenly, she gasped. "Draco Malfoy," she whispered.

"What?"

"That's why you were so desperate to talk to him."

She picked up on it much faster than he expected. She always was bright. There was no point in denying it once she figured it out.

"Is that the unfinished business? Are the two of you . . ."

"No, there's nothing going on." He felt a fresh blush come on. "But I was hoping."

"Forgive me Harry, but you seem quite an odd pair."

"Forgive _me_, Ginny, but you're taking this all very well."

She laughed. "After the things I've seen in life, I'm afraid there's very little left to shock me. Any of us."

That would explain why even Ron took Harry's news in stride. In the grand scheme of things, homosexuality was a very small deal.

"And, does he . . . what I mean to ask is, is he the same way?"

"Yes. Apparently, what happens in Slytherin, stays in Slytherin. Everybody there knew. Nobody made anything of it. In fact, he wasn't the only one."

"It's sort of ironic that Slytherin House should think so progressively about ho- um, _that_, when they were so prejudice against non-purebloods."

"You can say it, Ginny. I've come to accept it. I'm homosexual."

It was liberating it say it out loud. Until then, he'd used euphemisms and indirect language to describe himself. Not that he had great urgency to label himself. But to say it in no uncertain terms, with no room for misinterpretations, to admit that he belonged to select group of men and he was not ashamed, restored his self-confidence.

He sat up straighter. "I'm homosexual and I want to be with Draco." His conviction faltered briefly while he searched Ginny's face, either for approval or objection.

She echoed his posture. "Then what are you doing here? You should march straight up to him and sweep him off his feet. And if he is stupid enough to turn you down, then he doesn't deserve you. I'm not certain he deserves you in the first place."

Harry blinked at her in disbelief. "How did I get so lucky? I don't know about Draco deserving me, but I definitely don't deserve you."

"Harry, you deserve anything you want. You deserve to be happy."

He hugged her closely. "So do you."


	12. an unexpected guest

***SlytherinLegacie 338- you're right about the summary. Maybe I should change that. I wasn't sure how far I was going to take the story when I started. Thanks!**

**Thanks to HowlingRain, shealone, cassy1994, WitchRavenFox, MattJ8, and snapeisnotevil for also reading and taking the time to review. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. Good stuff will be coming up soon :) Still building . . .**

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The day after talking to Ginny, Harry went to Hogwarts to help with the rebuilding project. Though he had already put in countless hours, he was glad to put in more.

He didn't know who he was trying to fool. He went there hoping to see Draco again. But Draco and his father weren't there. He tried again Friday. No luck.

On Saturday, Harry wandered around Diagon Alley, not really noticing anything in any of the shops. He simply scoured the crowds for any sign of bright blond hair. After a disappointing day, he popped into Sugarplum's Sweet Shop for a few chocolate frogs, which he still loved, and some cauldron cakes to bring to the Weasley's supper the next day.

When he got back to Grimmauld Place, Kreacher had supper waiting for him. While he ate, he read a copy of the Prophet. Not much going on there—a few engagement announcements, an arrest or two, and of course, an article on the progress of the Hogwarts project. The castle was nearly finished, and even had some improvements made. Once the physical building was completed, spells and charms used by the original founders would be cast to bring the school back to its former glory. There was a reopening celebration planned for August fifteenth, a little more than two weeks before the students were set to arrive.

No matter what Harry tried to read or think about, his mind kept wandering to Draco. All evening long, he wondered what Draco was going to ask him before Ginny interrupted.

Even as he stood in the Weasley's sitting room the next day, shaking hands with Arthur, George, and Charlie, he was thinking about Draco. Specifically, he was thinking that even though he had told Ginny about his feelings for Draco, he couldn't possibly tell the rest of them. He would have to keep his 'news' very general.

Harry's mind was barely in on the conversations going on throughout the house. Ginny and Hermione were in the kitchen with Molly. Ron and Charlie were on the back stoop smoking cigars that Charlie brought from Romania. But Percy was off with his new girlfriend, and Bill was celebrating his anniversary with Fleur in Paris.

Harry was listening to George talk about some of his latest gags, one of which wasn't quite working right. When Arthur asked Harry about Grimmauld Place, he hadn't been paying much attention.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I asked if you were aware of the history of the house."

"Oh. Uh, yeah, sort of. I mean, Sirius talked a little bit about it."

"Is it true there's a whole wall with the Black family tree on it?" Arthur asked.

"Yes, it's rather unseemly. Several family members were burned out of it and never repaired. I was thinking about having it removed."

"What will you do with it?" George asked. "Is it valuable?"

Harry shrugged.

"It's a piece of history," Arthur said. "But it would be most valuable to Black family descendants." He chuckled. "But good luck with that one Harry. All of us purebloods are related somehow or another."

"Yes, I remember Sirius saying he was distantly related to the Malfoys."

"Not just the Malfoys. And not so distantly. Narcissa Malfoy was born a Black. She and Sirius shared a grandparent. And Sirius' great, great grandfather . . . was _my_ great grandfather."

"What? You and Sirius were related?"

Arthur nodded. "And the Longbottoms, and the Crouches, and even the Malfoys. There are probably more, but I can't quite think of them now."

"Then, you're a Black."

"My mother was Cedrella. Although, she would have been one of those burned off for marrying an undesirable."

Harry frowned. "I never really looked very closely at the tapestry. Is it something you'd like to have, Arthur?"

"Oh, no." He lowered his voice to a whisper, inviting Harry and George to lean closer. "Too much bad blood. I don't think Molly would take kindly to having Bellatrix LeStrange's likeness hanging on our sitting room wall."

"What are you three up to?" Ron asked, striding in.

They three men all sat back. "Nothing sinister," smiled Arthur. "Anyway, Harry, I should think perhaps Narcissa Malfoy would want to have the tapestry, seeing as she is one of the few remaining Blacks not disowned, deceased, or in prison."

And suddenly, Harry had a brilliant idea. And an excuse to visit Malfoy Manor.

All through supper, Harry felt Ginny's eye upon him. He knew she was waiting for him to bring up the subject he had been dreading all evening.

When he had not made any progress, she pushed him along.

"So, Harry, I heard you recently had a holiday in London."

"Um, yes. It was quite nice."

"What sorts of things did you do?"

Harry half shrugged. "You know, typical muggle tourist type things. I visited the Tower of London, and a wax museum. To be honest, I didn't know who most of the figures were."

Everyone laughed, knowing they probably wouldn't have either.

"Didn't you do anything fun, Harry?" George joked.

"I went to see a musical."

"Oh," Hermione gasped. "What did you see?"

"It was called Oklahoma. I think it's named after a place in the states."

"It's quite famous," she said. "How did you enjoy it?"

"Mm. Not much actually. But I did go to a club to hear some jazz musicians. That, I enjoyed." He felt a slight blush as he recalled what else he enjoyed at that club. He had been surprised that a stranger would want to have sexual relations with him in the loo of a public club. But he was even more surprised that they were not the only couple in there having a hump.

"It's a shame you had to do all of those things by yourself," Ginny said. "Or did you have company? Come on, Harry, you can tell us."

"Ginny," Ron scowled.

"It's okay Ron. She knows. She's just trying to help, I think."

"Help, with what, dear," Molly smiled. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes. Yes. Everything is fine." Harry suddenly felt very self-conscious as all conversation stopped and all eyes were on him.

"Don't keep us in suspense," George demanded.

Ron scowled again. "Don't push him Georgie. This isn't easy for him."

"What isn't easy? What's going on?"

Hermione jabbed Ron in the ribs. "Stay out of it Ron. You're making it worse."

"Making what worse?" Charlie asked.

Ginny gave Harry a sympathetic look. She mouthed the word _sorry_.

He sighed. "Look, it's not a big deal. What Ron, Hermione and Ginny are unintentionally making worse, is just something I wanted to tell everyone. But . . ." Now that the time had come, Harry was second-guessing himself. He stared down at the plate in front of him.

Arthur, who was sitting to Harry's right, at the head of the table, closed a hand around his. "It's all right. We're your family. You tell us when you're ready."

"I'm bent," he blurted out.

Arthur squeezed his hand.

"Is _that_ all?" George asked, and proceeded to shove smashed potatoes into his mouth.

"Bent? What does that mean?" questioned Molly.

"As in, not straight," Charlie clarified.

Molly still looked confused.

"He likes boys, Mum," Ginny said. "It's no big deal."

"Oh. Like that Heathcote Barbary fellow."

The Weasley children all raised an eyebrow. Ron in particular.

"How on earth do you know who Heathcote Barbary is?"

"You think only you young folk listen to the Wizard's Wireless? I enjoy the Weary Scissors as much as anyone."

They all had a good laugh at Molly's butchering of the name of the band. She stood her ground though, certain she was right. While the rest of them debated the merits of the Weird Sisters' music, Harry glanced across the table at Ginny. She gave him a smile.

Nobody asked Harry any uncomfortably personal questions. Nobody acted as though he should be embarrassed. And thankfully, nobody asked if there was a special boy in Harry's life.

Later, Molly brought out a three tiered, somewhat lopsided cake with eighteen candles on it. It was the first birthday Harry could remember ever being sincerely happy about celebrating. Molly had knitted him a doily and Toilet paper cover for his loo. Hermione had given him a gift certificate to a muggle department store to help decorate his home. Ron and George gave him a large bag of Bertie Bott's every flavor beans, which Ron was hoping Harry would share, along with a Self Writing Quill and Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.

Harry did, indeed share, and questioned the other items.

"There aren't any rules against them during Auror training as far as I could tell. Better than writing notes by hand, don't you think?"

Harry couldn't disagree. "But the Darkness Powder?"

Ron shrugged.

"Never know when you'll want a quick getaway," winked George.

"Well, thank you. Everybody. This has been the best birthday I've ever had."

"Our pleasure." Molly squeezed him tightly, then whispered into his ear. "Now don't you go letting anybody tell you you're doing anything wrong. You find love where you can. If anybody deserves it, it's you."

Harry, too choked up to answer, merely nodded into her neck.

"I should be going as well," Hermione said. "It was a lovely supper, as usual."

"I'll see you home," Ron spoke up.

"It's really not necessary, Ron. I can apparate straight to my house."

"Yeah, well, still," he blushed.

Harry leaned close to Ron. "Still feel funny about kissing her in front of everybody?"

Ron shoved his shoulder. "Shut up. Oi, do you want to come with me to see Charlie off tomorrow? We could go to the Leaky Cauldron afterwards."

"Oh, um, I was planning to get rid of that horrid tapestry. Your father suggested I give it to Narcissa Malfoy. I want to take it down as soon as possible. How about Tuesday?"

"Can't. Mione's keeping me busy the rest of the week. We're doing stuff with her parents, so they can get to know me," he blushed, giving Hermione a quick look. "How about next Sunday? Mum's not doing supper because no one else is going to be around."

"Yeah, all right. Sounds great."

By the time Harry got home, he was too tired to even read. He slipped into bed. Before sleep overtook him, he smiled to himself. The evening had gone even better than he expected. And he was anxious to take Molly's advice.

hdhdhdhdhd

"What does Master Harry Potter think he's doing?" Kreacher was beside himself, wringing his hands and pulling at the few hairs on his head.

"I'm taking down this tapestry. Help me get it down."

"Master Harry Potter must not remove the tapestry. It has been in the House of Black for generations."

"But this is no longer the House of Black," Harry said calmly. "It is the House of Potter now. Sirius gave it to me."

"But . . . but . . . this has alway been the House of Black. Kreacher's family has always served the Blacks."

Clearly, Kreacher was upset at the removal of the family tree. Harry tried to reassure him. "I don't want this in my home. But I thought perhaps Narcissa Malfoy would like it."

"Narcissa Black," Kreacher muttered. "Yes."

"So, will you help me take it down?"

Kreacher wrung his hands again.

Harry sighed. "You don't have to. In fact, you don't have to serve me at all, if you don't want to."

The house elf's head cocked to one side, as though Harry had said something so completely foreign to him, he couldn't comprehend it.

"Kreacher serves the House of Black. This is the House of Black."

Harry frowned. "This is just a house. It isn't the Black family. I'm not a Black. You don't have to serve me." Harry kicked off a shoe and stripped one of his socks. It worked for Dobby, Harry reasoned. He held the sock out to Kreacher. But his reaction was unexpected.

"No, no, no!" yelled Kreacher.

"Kreacher, I'm giving you your freedom."

"No! Master Harry Potter must not present Kreacher with clothing!"

The elf began to hit himself, prompting Harry to back off. He had expected the elf to happily accept the offer and be on his way, well rid of a man who was not a Black.

While Kreacher cowered in a corner, Harry replaced his sock and shoe.

"Well, if you're not going to leave, then help me."

Kreacher didn't complain again after that and helped Harry painstakingly remove the tapestry in one piece. They rolled it up, then Harry cast a shrinking spell on it and put it in a rucksack.

He showered and dressed, spending an inordinate amount of time choosing his clothes. At first, he had on his finest set of robes, then decided it was too much, though he imagined the Malfoys dressed that way, even at home. He put on comfortable muggle clothing next. But the t-shirt and baggy trousers seemed too casual. Finally, Harry settled a blue button down shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He rolled up the sleeves of the shirt as the day was getting a little warm. Or perhaps he was only sweating because he was nervous.

After scrutinizing his look in the mirror, Harry came to the conclusion that his hair was completely out of control. And he couldn't possibly present himself as is. Stopping by a barber shop in Diagon Alley, Harry was stumped when the barber asked how he wanted it cut.

"I don't know. I never really had a particular style." Harry shrugged. "Whatever you think best." And with that, he left himself at the barber's mercy.

As he walked along the cobblestones afterward, on his way to a flower shop, Harry couldn't keep his hands off his hair. He didn't know how the man did it, but his locks were softer than they'd ever been. Shorter, too. He felt free, both mentally and physically, smiling and nodding at everyone who passed.

The girl at the flower shop had suggested Harry purchase spider orchids if he was trying to impress the mother of the object of his affections. They were unusual and elegant, not unlike Narcissa herself. The spiked petals did remind him of the legs of a spider, and thought them quite appropriate for Malfoy Manor. He chose a light lavender variety with darker purple speckles and stripes. The girl wished him good luck as he left.

Armed with his rucksack and bouquet of flowers, Harry disapparated to Malfoy Manor.

hdhdhdhdhd

Standing outside the wrought iron gate to the manor, Harry began to get cold feet. He shivered at the sight of the house looming down the long and winding path.

"Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all," he said to himself.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor. Who may I say is calling?" a voice seemed to come from nowhere.

Harry looked around and saw what he had thought was just a statue of a chimera staring at him.

It repeated. "Who may I say is calling?"

"Uh, Harry. Harry Potter," he answered, feeling a bit foolish talking to a statue.

The gate clicked and swung open. He took a deep breath and proceed to take the second most nerve-wracking walk of his life. Lifting his hand to reach for the enormous knocker on the front door, he stopped and froze as the door opened.

Narcissa Malfoy stood, appearing confused, yet gracious at the same time. She gestured for him to come in.

"Harry Potter, this is quite a surprise."

"Um, yes, I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Of course not. Please, come into the sitting room."

He followed her, glancing around. It was the same house in which he, Ron, and Hermione had been taken during the Easter holiday. Yet it was also very different. There was a lightness in the atmosphere, in addition to a physical lightness. Evil no longer hung over it.

"I plan on completely renovating eventually," Narcissa explained, as if she could read his mind. "As of yet, I have only redecorated a few rooms."

Harry certainly wasn't into home decorating, but he admired it. She gestured for him to sit. As he did, he wondered if Voldemort had ever sat in the chair. He sat anyway, deciding that he wasn't going to let Voldemort control his actions from the grave.

Narcissa called for a house elf.

"Please bring us tea and the crumpets Portia made this morning."

"Yes Madam Narcissa," the elf bowed.

"Now. What can I do for you, Mr. Potter?"

"Oh, please, call me Harry, Mrs. Malfoy."

She chuckled lightly. "If you will address me as Narcissa. I believe we have enough of a connection to warrant a more casual association."

He nodded. "Oh. I forgot. These are for you." He held out the bunch of orchids.

Accepting them, she inhaled deeply. "Lovely. Thank you. You have excellent taste in flora. Caladenia is not something one would normally choose to give to an acquaintance."

"Oh."

"Don't worry, Harry. It isn't inappropriate, just unusual."

Harry's nerves got the better of him and he blurted out, "Is D-Draco home?"

She stifled a smile before answering. "He has taken his father to the Ministry for his monthly evaluation visit."

"His what?"

"Surely, you realize that someone under house arrest is still carefully monitored by the Ministry. Lucius must present himself at the end of every month for examination. His movements are tracked, and each and every one must be explained. If he is found to have violated the terms of his sentence . . . however, it is much less humiliating than the examinations he would have faced in Azkaban."

Harry swallowed. He suspected she was speaking of unwelcome 'examinations' by other inmates.

"I see."

The house elf popped in with a tray for tea. She placed in on the small round table between the chairs in which Harry and Narcissa sat.

"Thank you Poppy. I will pour out."

The elf winked out of sight.

"Did you come to see Draco?" Narcissa didn't look at Harry, and therefore didn't see his blush.

"Um, I, uh . . . actually I have something for you."

She raised an eyebrow. "For me? First flowers, and now a gift? Why, Harry, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to seduce me," she teased.

A series of unintelligible sounds tumbled gracelessly from Harry's mouth. This visit was not at all going the way he'd planned. Not that he had planned much beyond getting in the door.

"Forgive me," Narcissa laughed. "I was only having a little fun."

Composing himself, Harry reached for his rucksack and pulled out the shrunken tapestry.

"I don't know if you're aware, but I'm living in Sirius Black's childhood home. He willed it to me before he died."

Narcissa nodded.

"There was a tapestry with the Black family tree on one wall. And, well, since it's not my family, I thought perhaps you'd like to have it."

She let out a small gasp.

"I've shrunken it," Harry explained. "There's nothing wrong with it. Except for the burn marks Wallburga made. But you could probably have it repaired."

"You're giving this to me?"

"Yes. I have no use for it. Teddy Tonks and D-Draco," Harry silently cursed himself for stumbling over Draco's name again, "are the last in the Black line. Well, the ones who acknowledge that they are Blacks at any rate." He didn't find it necessary to tell her he knew she was related to Arthur Weasley. "Since Andromeda was burned off the tapestry herself, I didn't think she'd be particularly interested."

As Harry handed it over, Narcissa gazed at it with the reverence he would probably display regarding some treasure once belonging to his own parents.

"Thank you," she whispered. And Harry thought that was as much sound as she could make at the moment.

He sipped his tea while she gently ran a hand over it.

"Mother, what happened to all the crump-" Draco skidded to a halt at the entry to the sitting room. "Harry. Uh, Potter, what are you doing here?"

"He's brought us a gift," Narcissa smiled.

"A gift? For us?"

"Yes. A wonderful, generous gift. Harry, would you like to stay for brunch?"

Without taking his eyes off Draco, Harry answered immediately, "Yes."

hdhdhdhdhd

The air was thick with awkward tension as Harry sat with the three Malfoys in the solarium. A spread of crustless sandwiches, crudités and fruit lay before them, along with a variety of breakfast meats, and beans. Harry was not particularly versed in pureblood practices, however, he thought it polite to let a lady be served food first. And so, he sat and waited.

Narcissa smiled. "Guests first, Harry."

"Oh. All right," he replied slowly. He glanced at both Draco and his father as though it was some sort of test, and hesitated.

Placing a hand on Lucius' arm, she leaned a bit closer. "See? A true gentleman. Even when a guest, he is reluctant to serve himself first."

Lucius snorted a little, garnering a glare from Draco.

Narcissa spared Harry any more discomfort by taking halves from two different kinds of sandwiches and placing them on her plate. He followed suit, taking the remains. Only then did Lucius and Draco help themselves.

"How did your inquiry go, dear?" Narcissa asked Lucius as she spooned a creamy dressing onto the small plate to the top left of her lunch plate.

"Obviously, well. I'm here, aren't I?"

Though Harry thought it was an awfully smart-arsed remark, nobody else flinched.

"Yes, dear. You are. And what about your service to the community duties?"

"What about them?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "You were right mother."

"Was I?"

Now she was sounding like a smart-arse. Harry was fascinated that the Malfoys would be indulging in passive aggressive banter in front of a guest, much less Harry Potter.

Lucius blew out a breath. "Yes. You were right. My community service is considered completed for this year."

"Oh, already?" Narcissa feigned surprise.

Harry looked between the three of them hoping someone would explain.

"I never said it wasn't a good idea," Lucius defended.

"But you didn't think it would get you off for the rest of the year," Draco pointed out. He looked to Harry. "Instead of joining the prisoners once a month in the re-beautification project, we spent most days this month helping to put Hogwarts back together."

"Yes, I remember you telling me that."

"Well, because I went with him, father got some sort of extra credit for it. They figured the twenty or so days we put in was equal to a weekend every month. So he won't have to do more service until next June."

"Brilliant," Harry smiled. It dropped when he looked at Lucius' stern face.

"I know this is humbling for you darling," Narcissa said to Lucius, still with her hand on his. "But I am so grateful to have you here with us."

Lucius spared a glance toward her, and a smile. Harry couldn't ever recall seeing genuine smile on the man's face. It was then he realized just how much love he had for his family. Before that, it was easy to imagine all Death Eaters were just evil and insane, like Voldemort and Bellatrix.

He still didn't like him, though.

"Wait until you see what Harry has brought me, darling. The tapestry from Aunt Wallburga's house. Did you know that Harry is living there now?"

"Tapestry?" Lucius sneered.

"Not just a tapestry. The history of the Black family. I think I'll put it in the library. What better place for such an historical artifact?"

"Whatever you wish, dear."

"It must have been difficult to take down by yourself, Harry."

"I didn't. Kreacher helped me."

"Ah, yes, the crotchety old house elf," Narcissa chuckled.

Harry laughed. "He wasn't happy about it. Didn't like the idea of defacing the House of Black. But when I told him about giving it to you, he seemed to approve. He freaked out on me a bit, though, when I tried to free him."

"You what?" Both Lucius and Narcissa had dropped their forks.

"I, uh, well, he was upset when I said it was no longer in the Black family. I offered him freedom."

"And?"

"He refused. Violently. Then he helped me with the tapestry and we haven't spoken about it since." Harry scratched his head. "I don't understand. Hermione says the house elves want to be free, but Kreacher certainly didn't."

"And where would he go if he was free?" asked Narcissa.

"Anywhere he wanted."

"But that house is his home."

Harry frowned. "Are you saying he thought I was trying to kick him out?"

"It may have appeared that way to him."

"I assumed he would want to leave. I was trying to do right by him. If he doesn't want to serve me, I don't want to force him. He seems to hate me."

The corner of Narcissa's mouth raised. "There's a fine line between love and hate. Isn't that right, Draco?"

"What?" He hadn't been paying attention. He'd been too busy staring at Harry with his new haircut.

Ignoring that fact, Narcissa continued. "Besides, what greater honour could there be for a house elf than to serve Harry Potter, savior of our world, and friend to house elves?"

Harry blushed.

"Draco, why don't you show Harry the grounds after brunch. I'll bet he's never seen an albino peacock."

"Uh, of course Mother."

Harry finished the rest of his meal as quickly as possible, thankful that Narcissa had given him and Draco the perfect opportunity to be alone.

* * *

***don't worry, the next chapter starts off right where this left off :)**


	13. because I wanted to

***Okay, so I hope this turns out all right. I had chapters 13, 14 and half of 15 completely written before I decided I didn't like the direction it was taking. Sort of feel like I'm flying by the seat of my pants here. Anyway, I always appreciate feedback.**

**Thanks to YinKeket, DanceAnna, Guest, MatJ8, HowlingRain, vt Lba, Michael Hunter, cassy1994, and SlytherinLegacie338 for reading and reviewing. btw, vtLba, as far as I know, Jack Dee is straight. But anyone that has had to "come out" as different in any way, knows it's not always easy. People want to push their own beliefs and norms on you.**

* * *

"Don't get too close," Draco warned of Narcissa's prized albino peacocks. "The motherfuckers bite. Hard."

Harry laughed. "They are beautiful."

"Well, that's about everything." Draco had shown Harry all around the property. They walked through the rose garden, around the pond, through the topiary maze, and finally to the large paved patio with the gooseberry bushes nearby.

Draco glanced up to a second story window. His mother had been standing there a moment ago, but was gone.

"What are you _really_ doing here?" Draco asked.

"I . . . the tapestry."

The disappointed look on Draco's face spurred Harry tell the truth.

"That wasn't the only reason. I mean, I genuinely wanted your mother to have the family tree, but I suppose I was hoping to get a chance to talk to you as well. You left rather abruptly the last time we saw each other."

"I didn't want to interrupt your reunion with the Weasley girl."

"I know you know her name is Ginny. Why do you pretend you don't?"

Draco shrugged. "So, you finally got together then? I didn't screw up everything for you?"

"No."

Draco turned away to watch a pair of peacocks pecking at each other over a cluster of ripe gooseberries.

"I mean, no, we didn't get together."

"Oh."

"What about you and Harper?"

Draco grunted noncommittally.

Laughing, Harry asked what that was supposed to mean.

Reluctantly, Draco told him how he had finally given in to Harper a few months into Seventh Year. He admitted that Harper was indeed sweet when they were alone. But Draco was not Harry, and never could be. Harper said he'd changed and that the magic of the year before was gone. It was over within a month, and Draco went back to being lonely. He and Harper were truly only briefly catching up when Harry ran into them.

"Good," Harry said.

Draco's brow furrowed. "That's seems a bit mean spirited, especially for you."

"That's not exactly how I meant it," Harry chuckled. "You were going ask to me something, back at Fortescue's. What was it?"

Draco shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

"Then you have no reason not to ask."

Glancing up at his mother's bedroom window again, as though she would be able to hear their conversation from so far away, Draco stammered out, "I . . . I was wondering, why you . . . in the hallway, at Hogwarts, you ki-kissed . . ."

"You want to know why I kissed you."

Draco nodded.

"Because I wanted to." Harry looked up to the window that kept drawing Draco's eye. No one was there. "I want to kiss you now."

The breath left Draco's chest, threatening to never come back. When he thought he would pass out, he inhaled sharply. Just in time for Harry to take it away again with a kiss.

Harry stepped back to assess Draco's reaction.

"Why did you do that?"

"I told you, I wanted to."

"But, Harper was only a . . . you said it was a _temporary situation brought about by circumstances,__" _Draco quoted. "I remember you saying that. You said you were trying to be someone you weren't."

Chuckling a little, Harry replied, "I meant that I was trying to be _you_, not that I was trying to be something I wasn't."

"But Ginny-"

"Is one of my closest friends. Nothing more. As far as Harper goes, at first, yes, I thought I was helping you out. It became something _I_ wanted, after a while. In fact, I was fairly certain it wasn't what you wanted at all. But by then, I was hooked. I found what had been missing. I figured out why I was bollocks at dating girls."

"You mean to tell me that I actually outed you to Hermione. I thought you said you smoothed things over with her."

"I did. By telling her the truth. She and Ron had no problem with it. That day in Diagon Alley, I told Ginny everything, including the part about you."

"Me?"

"Yes. Do you know what she said?"

Draco shook his head.

"She told me to march up to you and sweep you off your feet. And that's what I intend to do."

Once again, Draco had a hard time breathing.

Harry took a deep breath himself. "But only if that's what you want."

Draco stepped forward embracing Harry. The familiar feeling of apparition churned Harry's stomach for an unexpected moment. The next thing he new, he was in a strange room being pushed up against a wall.

They snogged with furious passion as Draco pressed his body up against Harry's as tightly as he could. Draco's body answered Harry's question in no uncertain terms. They were both hard and digging in to the other's hip. Draco ground against him as they kissed. After a while, the snogging slowed to sensual exploration, and their hands began to wander. Draco took hold of both of Harry's hands and held them in place above his head with one of his own. Harry could have easily gotten away if he chose, but he let Draco hold him there. With his free hand, Draco pulled Harry's shirt free from his jeans, and slipped it under the fabric. While stepping up the pace of his hip movements, Draco rubbed the hard nub of Harry's nipple.

Harry suddenly broke the kiss, but didn't have enough room to move his mouth out of range. When he spoke, it was against Draco's lips.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum in my-" He moan loudly.

Draco suddenly bit Harry's bottom lip, whimpering himself. His hips slowed, then stilled. The sound of heavy breathing was the only noise.

Gradually, the room quieted. Draco moved back, giving Harry some space to breathe, but his hand was still in Harry's shirt, while the other held Harry's hands above his head. They stared at one another.

Draco gently kissed Harry's swelling bottom lip.

"My pants are getting cold," Harry whispered.

They both giggled. Draco released him and took out his wand to clean up the wet spots spreading across their groins.

There was a quick knock at the door, and before Draco could answer, it opened.

"Are you in here, Draco?"

"Yes, Mother. I was, um–"

"Giving me a tour of the house," Harry finished. "We were finished looking around outside."

"Oh. All right then. I wanted to tell you that dessert is being served in the sitting room, if you'd care for something sweet." Narcissa paused. "What happened to your hair, Draco?"

"What?" His hand naturally reached up to try and smooth it out.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were snogging in here." She quickly closed the door behind her.

Draco stood with his mouth hanging open.

"You probably shouldn't leave your mouth like that," Harry gently coaxed his chin up. "I might take it as an invitation."

"She knows."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"How would she know? Why would she think that either one of us is . . ."

"Bent? Your parents don't know? Shit, Draco, I just assumed. I'm sorry. I guess what happens in Slytherin really does stay there."

Draco began pacing.

"You can blame me," Harry offered. "You were showing me the house and I accosted you in your bedroom."

"Are you barmy?"

Harry shrugged. "You could simply tell them. Your mother didn't seem upset about it, if she really thought that's what we were doing."

He frowned. "You _are_ barmy."

"That's why you kept looking back at the house. You wanted to make sure no one was looking."

Draco walked to his bed and flopped down. "I'm not ready for this."

"I'm sorry. Do you want me to go?"

"No." Draco sat up. "Did you mean this? I mean, not as an experiment or anything . . . but really mean it. Do you really care for me?"

"I've been trying to tell you I care for you, for well over a year now."

"But what about your public? What will they have to say?"

Harry smiled. "I don't really care what anyone has to say. The people who are most important to me know, and they support me. That's all I care about."

Draco sat on his bed considering his options. Harry sat down beside him.

"Whatever you want to do is all right with me. If you're not ready to tell your parents, don't. If you want to tell them you're bent, but not about me, I won't say anything. But if you want to tell them everything, I'll be right there."

"Do you always have to be the hero? By the way, I love this new haircut." Draco ran his hand across the back of Harry's head. The hair there had been shaved. But it was long enough to be soft and not bristly. The rest of Harry's hair was combed to the side and neatly held in place with some sort of pomade, his scar prominently on display. But Draco liked that. He looked like a man, rather than a boy.

Draco pulled Harry's head closer to his own and kissed him. Before he knew it, they were lost in sweet kisses, Harry lying on top of Draco on the bed.

"Mm, we need to stop," Draco mumbled against Harry's lips. "My parents are expecting us to go down for dessert."

Harry groaned. "I suppose if we spend too much time up here, they'll get suspicious. So, does that mean you're not quite ready to tell them?"

"I'm sorry." Draco gently pushed Harry off him and sat up. "I'm still a coward."

"No. It wasn't easy for me to tell people either. In fact, I've only told the Weasleys and Hermione." Harry stood, holding out his hand. "Come on, let's go."

Taking the hand, Draco stood as well. They walked out of the room hand in hand, but by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, their hands had unclasped.

"Ah, there you are," Narcissa smiled. "Tea?"

"Yes, please," Harry returned the smile.

While Narcissa poured out, Lucius sat behind his edition of the Daily Prophet, in the chair previously occupied by Harry earlier in the day. Draco led Harry to a small sofa with a low table in front of it. Poppy, the house elf appeared with a tray filled with fairy cakes and sweet pasties. She placed the tray on the table, then retrieved the tea cups Narcissa had poured.

"Tell me Harry," Narcissa said, "did you enjoy the tour of the house? Or did you only get to see Draco's bedroom?"

"Mother!" Draco flushed.

"Because I'm particularly pleased with the renovations in the dining room," she continued, nonplussed.

"Uh, no, actually," Harry replied. "We had just started the tour when you informed us of dessert. I would love to see the rest of the home."

Draco blinked a few times, impressed at Harry's ability to think on his feet. He managed to make being alone with Draco in his bedroom sound completely innocent. And he appealed to Narcissa's wish to show off her interior design prowess.

The three of them carried on light, generic conversation while Lucius remained hidden behind the paper. Most of the time Harry forgot he was even in the room, except for seeing a hand reach out for a sweet once in a while.

Chimes of a grandfather clock began to sound somewhere off in a another room.

"My goodness, is it really four o'clock?" Narcissa asked no one in particular. "Lucius, stop eating the cakes or you'll spoil your supper."

"I should be going," Harry said, taking her hint. Somehow, he'd spent the entire day at the manor. "Kreacher will be expecting me."

"Thank you again for your generous gift, Harry," Draco's mother smiled. "I hope you'll come again. It's been quite a pleasant visit."

Harry nodded. "Perhaps when you've repaired the tapestry and hung it in your library as you plan, I might come see it, the way it was meant to be."

"An excellent idea. Consider it an open invitation."

"Thank you."

"Draco, dear, why don't you see our guest out."

"Of course, Mother."

Draco led Harry out of the sitting room, down the hall to the grand foyer.

Lucius snapped his paper down and glared at Narcissa. "Why would you extend another invitation to him?"

"I was being gracious. Harry has done an awful lot for our family. I want to repay that. That's all."

He scoffed. "That debt was _pre_paid when you helped him in the woods."

"Perhaps."

"And I don't like that you are encouraging Draco and him to be friends," he scowled.

"But Lucius, I'm _not_ encouraging them to be friends." Narcissa picked up her cup and took a sip of tea, hiding her smirk behind it.

hdhdhdhdhd

Draco's eyes darted around, making sure he and Harry were alone before kissing him.

"I wish you didn't have to leave," he said. "I could apparate us back to my room."

Harry smiled. "As much as I'd like that, I don't want to do anything to anger your parents. Your father still doesn't like me much."

"But my mother seems to adore you."

"I will say, this visit went much better than I expected."

"I want to see you again. When can I see you?"

Harry's brow furrowed as he thought of a plan. "It would seem odd for me to come here again tomorrow. Maybe a chance meeting in Diagon Alley?"

"A chance meeting?" Draco questioned.

"Well, if you're not ready to come out yet, we can hardly arrive places together."

"Right. What do you have in mind?"

"I need to get a new owl. The Menagerie is getting a new shipment of animals tomorrow. Why don't we _bump into each other_ there?"

"All right. I'll be there at half one," Draco giggled.

"Brilliant. See you then."

Draco kissed him one last time. "See you then," he sighed.

hdhdhdhdhd

Harry pulled his hand quickly from the sleek black and white owl's cage as it tried to nip him.

"Be careful," the shopkeeper warned. "That's a mean one."

"Yes, I can see that." He hadn't much luck with birds lately, it seemed.

"Don't worry, we've just brought in a dozen new owls," the man told him. "One of 'em is bound to be to your liking. Sir." He bowed when he realized who Harry was.

"You don't need to do that."

"But, but you're . . ."

"I know who I am," Harry said, a little frustrated that people still treated him as some sort of god-like figure. If only people realized how many wizards fought against Voldemort. Harry was merely lucky enough to survive. That was the way he saw it, anyway. "I'll just keep looking."

He was around the corner, admiring a snowy white when he heard the chime of the bell over the door.

"Oi," the shopkeeper called. "I don't serve your kind here."

"Can you really afford to turn away my galleons?"

Harry recognized the other voice as Draco's. He quickly made his way toward the front of the shop.

"I know what your family did during the war. I'd rather be poor than take money from Death Eaters."

"That's enough," Harry said sternly. "The war is over. The Malfoys have stood trial. And Draco and his mother are free to patronize whichever business they choose."

Draco had slunk out of the way. He was loathe to let Harry fight his battle for him, but he couldn't help feeling his heart lift at Harry's fierce defense.

"And I am free to turn away whichever business I choose."

Harry was taken aback. Though the Alley was slowly returning to business as usual, many shops had suffered. Customers were not as plentiful and it hit the shopkeepers' pocketbooks hard.

The man continued, "I mean no disrespect to you, Mr. Potter. But everyone knows the Malfoys bought their way out of prison."

"What? No. Of course they didn't. Haven't you read the papers? I testified for them, because they helped me."

"Everybody knows Rita Skeeter writes shite."

Harry shook his head. Of course. When she writes some stupid drivel about Dumbledore, or him and Hermione being a couple, everyone believes it. But when she actually writes the truth . . .

"Normally, I'd agree with you," Harry said. "But I was there while the Wizengamot deliberated. They were not paid off."

The shopkeeper pursed his lips. "Still, it won't do my reputation any good to have Death Eaters in here. It'll drive away what little business I have left."

Harry let out an exasperated sigh. "Including mine then. I'll have to find another owl emporium."

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Draco asked quietly from the corner by the front window. He was petting a tawny colored owl with large, dark eyes and brown streaks running vertically along its body and wings. It rubbed its head on Draco's hand and made soft cooing sounds. "Because, I think this little owl is perfect."

Harry and the shopkeeper turned to look.

"If you let him stay and look around, I'll buy that owl," Harry suggested. "Plus the cage, feed and grooming supplies."

The shopkeeper lowered his voice. "Are you sure he's all right?"

"Quite certain," Harry smiled. "Is it a deal?"

"And if anyone questions it, you'll defend my decision to let him shop here?"

"Absolutely."

The man held out his hand to shake. "I'll go get those supplies you'll need."

Harry walked to Draco and the owl.

"It's beautiful," he commented. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

Draco shrugged. "Thank you," he said softly.

"Is it like that wherever you go?"

"No, not everywhere. But I've learned to stay away from where I'm not wanted."

"I'm sorry. I thought things would be better by now." Harry held up a hand to caress Draco's cheek.

"Don't. Someone might see. Given that man's reaction, people might turn on you for associating with me."

"I don't care about that."

"I do."

The Menagerie owner came out of the back room with a bag of feed, a feather groomer, an ornate leather leg cuff and a cover for the cage, in case Harry needed it for traveling with the owl.

"Well, you won my right to shop in here, I may as well take advantage of it," Draco snickered. He left to browse while Harry went to the cashier to pay for his items.

"Do you get many Death Eaters in your shop?" Harry asked. "I thought most who were caught were in Azkaban."

"There are plenty of suspects," the man said. "Some of them may have been able to hide it from the authorities, but are highly suspicious."

"Well, that's the problem with acting on suspicions. You don't really know who you're turning away, and who you're serving."

The man cocked his head.

Harry explained, " A Death Eater who is good at hiding it would be welcome in your shop, while a good citizen who may not have a pleasing countenance would be turned away. Do you see the flaw in your reasoning?"

"I suppose. But what am I to do?"

"Let the authorities do their job, and you do yours, which is serving the community. _All_ of the community. At least give people the benefit of the doubt. I wouldn't expect you to tolerate a thief or anything. But," Harry turned around, spotting Draco, "some who have made bad choices in the past are trying to make amends."

The shopkeeper nodded. He put Harry's things in a bag and handed it over. "Thank you for your patronage, sir."

"You're welcome," Harry grinned. "And I'll be sure to recommend your store to my friends."

"Thank you. Thank you very much."

Harry joined Draco in front of a glass room full of felines.

"Are you thinking of getting a kitten, or a kneazle?"

"I was," Draco answered. "But none of these strike my fancy. Maybe another time, since you've convinced that man to let me into the shop."

"I'll go door to door if I have to, to convince everyone," Harry joked. "Would you like to join me for tea?"

Draco nodded, then noticed that the shopkeeper was watching them. Harry asked the man if he could leave his purchases in the shop and come back after having tea with his new friend. The shopkeeper agreed, and for all he knew, he was watching the pair leave after a chance encounter.

They got a few odd looks as they strolled toward the Dandy Danish, one of the few cafes that welcomed Draco, and anyone really. The owner was foreign, so he didn't seem to have the same prejudices that the British wizards had.

"People are looking at us funny," Draco said.

"Don't pay any attention." Harry held the door open for Draco to walk in.

Dag waved to them. "Welcome!"

"Hello, Dag," Draco smiled. "This is Harry."

"Oh, yes, I recognize you," Dag said in his thick Scandinavian accent. "Welcome to my cafe, Mr. Potter."

"Please call me Harry." They shook hands briefly before Dag showed them to a table.

Several other patrons were in the cafe, some glancing curiously at the pair. Draco avoided eye contact with any of them, considering what had just happened at The Menagerie. Normally, he felt quite comfortable at the Dandy Danish. But normally, he wasn't there with Harry. He was just a face in the crowd there.

"I'll bring your usual, yes?" Dag asked Draco.

"Yes, please." Then he turned to Harry. "Oh, I suppose you should order what you like."

"Whatever you usually have will be fine, I'm sure."

The cafe owner left them to retrieve a pot of tea and a plate of pastries for them.

Draco whispered out of the side of his mouth, "People are looking at us."

Harry shrugged. "I guess I'm used to it." He saw a couple of servers giggling behind their hands.

"Do you think they know?"

"Know what?" Harry chuckled. "That I want to pull down your trousers and suck you until you–

"Harry. Shush." Draco blushed. "You know what I mean."

"Why so jumpy? I thought you came here all the time. You came here with Harper. Were you nervous then?"

"No. I had no interest in him." Draco glanced around again. "I feel like there may as well be a sign across my forehead reading '_hot for Harry,_' when I'm with you."

Harry grinned. "The feeling is mutual."

Dag returned carrying a large tray. He placed the porcelain pot, with a creamer and sugar bowl in the middle of the small round table, then a handle-less cup in front of each of the boys. To the side, he lay a plate with fluffy, golden brown crumpets and scones, along with smaller plates. Finally, a bowl with separated compartments was put on the table. Harry could see clotted cream, lemon curd, strawberry jam and soft butter in each of the four compartments.

The Dane began to pour out. "This is one of my finest teas," he explained to Harry. "Draco is one of the few who orders it. Most go for Darjeeling, or Earl Grey. But not my friend, Draco, here," the man smiled.

Leaning forward, Harry inhaled the steam wafting up. "What is this?"

"Gyokuro. The highest quality Japanese green tea."

Harry picked up the creamer.

"Before you do that, you may want to taste it," Dag suggested. "It's a delicate green tea with a slightly sweet flavor. Unlike some other teas, it is best drunk plain." He bowed and left the pair alone.

"You drink it without milk?"

Draco nodded. "But you can make it however you like it."

Harry took a sip and decided to enjoy it unadulterated, like Draco. He watched as Draco took a scone and spread butter, then the strawberry jam, lemon curd and finally a dollop of cream on top. He laughed.

"I can't believe you put all that on at once."

"Don't criticize until you try it," Draco smirked and bit into it.

Watching his face as he chewed, Harry licked his lips. Clearly, Draco was enjoying it.

After a moment of hesitation, Harry followed suit.

"This is amazing." He covered his mouth to keep crumbs from falling out.

They ate in silence, occasionally sipping their tea. Eventually, Draco forgot about the other patrons and relaxed. After eating his scone, he took a crumpet and buttered it.

"Oh," he pouted, looking over the table, "Dag forgot the honey."

"Honey?" Harry questioned. "You put honey on your crumpets, too?"

"Yes. Why? What do you put on yours?"

"Just a little butter. That's what I usually put on my scones as well."

"But clotted cream is one of the joys of life," Draco joked.

"I was never allowed the cream."

Frowning, Draco asked, "What do you mean?"

"My aunt sometimes let me have a small scone with a bit of butter when she was feeling generous. But I was never allowed to take the jam or cream. Dudley got all that."

Draco put down his crumpet. "You must hate me for the way I've grown up. My parents could afford to indulge me anything I wanted. I'd already forgotten all about the things you told me about your childhood."

"It wasn't your fault my aunt and uncle treated me the way they did. They weren't poor. They had plenty. They just didn't share it with me."

"That's awful. From the things you told me, I assumed your family simply didn't have money." He sat up straighter. "This is my treat."

Harry laughed. "Draco, I can pay for my own meal."

"I insist. You made my mother very happy when you gave her the tapestry. Let me try to make it up to you."

Reluctantly, Harry agreed. When they finished, the cafe owner brought them the bill, which Draco paid.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you two come to be friends?" asked Dag.

He'd been in wizarding London long enough to have heard the gossip about Draco's family, though he didn't let it bother him. Draco was a polite customer who left good tips. Dag normally served him himself because some of the waitresses were wary, but he gave the girls whatever Draco left on the table.

"Oh, well, um," stammered Draco.

"We ran into each other in The Menagerie." Harry cut in. "The owner there wasn't very kind and tried to turn Draco away. And in gratitude, Draco invited me to have tea." He told a little white lie.

"Very good," Dag smiled. "Maybe you could convince some of the girls that Draco isn't going to hex them if they make a mistake with his order."

"Draco wouldn't hurt a fly."

The man in question raised his eyebrow.

"Well, he won't hex them, anyway."

Harry noticed two girls peeking around the corner from the kitchen.

"Serves them right," Draco muttered. "They missed out on the chance to wait on Harry due to their prejudice."

Without thinking, Harry rested his hand on Draco's. "Eventually, people will come around."

All Draco could do was stare at Harry's hand.

"Oh. Sorry." Harry removed it and placed it in his lap. "Why don't we go?  
If the cafe owner noticed, he didn't say a word, just waved goodbye and wished them a pleasant afternoon.

Standing outside the cafe, full and satiated, Harry and Draco smiled bashfully at one another.

"Now what?" asked Draco.

"Oh, well, I have to go back and get that owl."

"Right."

"I can't really go anywhere else. I'll have to take it home straightaway."

Nodding, Draco sighed. "Okay. Well, I guess I'll see you . . . sometime."

"You could come with me."

A slow grin grew on Draco's face. "All right."

"Meet me behind Ollivander's old shop. It's a good place to disapparate."

A thousand thoughts went through Harry's head as he hurried toward The Menagerie. Not the least of which was whether or not the house was in any condition for visitors. He wasn't the most tidy person and he'd always told Kreacher that he didn't have to straighten up. For once, he wished he hadn't let Hermione guilt him for owning a house elf.

On second thought, the tidiness of the house _was_ the least of his worries. Harry wondered just how far Draco was ready to take their new relationship. He wasn't exactly sure how far _he_ was willing to take it just yet.

But he'd soon find out.


	14. fine line between fighting and snogging

***SlytherinLegacie338- You're right about Lucius being Draco's biggest worry. You'll have to wait and see how he reacts. But not in this chapter.**

**Prince of Scania- I can't believe I messed that up. I was looking up so many names, and I guess I was reading the wrong description for Dagmar. I changed it to Dag, which was directly above that. Oops. Thanks for the heads up!**

**Thanks to Michael Hunter, YinKeket and cassy1994 for also reading and reviewing!**

* * *

Neither Harry, nor Draco said a word as they met up behind Ollivander's. Harry merely took Draco's hand and they disappeared.

Arriving in Harry's sitting room, they took a moment to reorient themselves. The room was tidy enough, Harry supposed. But he didn't reckon they'd be spending their time there anyway.

"I should have gotten a stand for the cage," Harry lamented.

"You could get a hook and hang it from the ceiling," suggested Draco.

Harry looked up. "Perhaps. For now I guess I'll just set it on the desk."

He peeked inside the cover to check on the owl. He or she looked no worse for the apparition trip.

"How is it?" asked Draco.

"She, er, he, seems fine." He frowned. "I forgot to ask if it was a boy or a girl."

"It is a bit on the small side," Draco noticed. "My guess is male. Female owls are normally bigger."

"You're probably right."

"What are you going to call him?"

Harry cocked his head, regarding his new pet. "I'm not sure. I'm hoping something comes to me. Maybe I'll see what sort of personality he has first."

The silence was just beginning to become uncomfortable when a mumbling voice came from the hallway. Harry braced himself for the tirade Kreacher was sure to unleash over an unexpected guest.

" . . . pay Kreacher. Pay? Master Harry Potter is tricking Kreacher. Wizards do not pay house elves. Wizards are deceitful–

Kreacher stopped as he rounded the corner and walked into the room to find Harry talking to a light haired man.

"Master never told Kreacher a guest would be arriving. Kreacher has not yet prepared a meal."

"I know. I'm sorry Kreacher. But you don't have to prepare anything. We can order takeaway if we get hungry."

"Takeaway," Kreacher wrinkled up his nose. "Muggle food. The Black family never ate muggle food. The House of Black never–

Kreacher's mouth dropped open as Draco turned around to face him. The old elf bowed so low his ears nearly touched the floor. Draco raised an eyebrow in question to Harry.

"Oh. I should have seen this coming," muttered Harry.

"Master Draco Malfoy! How may Kreacher serve you?"

"What?" Draco turned to Harry. "How does he know who I am?"

"Uh, the tapestry."

"Kreacher will make a fine meal. Kreacher will prepare a meal fit for a Black."

Harry couldn't ever remember seeing the house elf so animated or excited. He tolerated Harry most of the time, but was only polite some of the time. And he was downright insulting at times.

"That would be lovely Kreacher," Harry smiled. "I believe pot roast and Yorkshire puddings would be nice. Carrots. Some potatoes. And maybe biscuits for dessert." Harry asked Draco, "What kinds of biscuits do you like?"

"Um, shortbread, I suppose," he replied. Though his house elves at home were pleasant and compliant, he'd never seen one practically jumping up and down as though he would pee his pants, had he worn them.

"Shortbread." Mumbled Kreacher. "Yes, shortbread. Mistress Walburga preferred shortbread."

"Thank you Kreacher," Harry said, as he usually did. But his gratitude often went unacknowledged.

"Thank you, Master Harry Potter." With that, Kreacher hurried off to the kitchen.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" questioned Draco.

"You quite literally made Kreacher's day," Harry laughed. "He lives to serve the House of Black." He cleared his throat. "Well, he'll be busy for a while. Would you like a tour of the house?"

Draco nodded, recalling what happened the last time they were supposed to be touring a house.

"Well, this is obviously the sitting room," said Harry. "The tapestry was in here. Looks a bit bland without it. Not that I want it back or anything."

"Mother hasn't stopped talking about it. I'm afraid you'd have to duel her to get it back," joked Draco.

"Maybe I could enlist your help with decorating instead."

"Oh, I'm no decorator. That's Mother's forte." Noticing Harry's disappointed look, he quickly added, "But, it might be fun to try."

Harry's smile returned as he grabbed Draco by the hand. "Come on. I'll show you the kitchen later, so we don't disturb Kreacher." He pointed down the hall. "There's a living room and a small loo down there. Plus, Kreacher's room. Upstairs is where all the bedrooms are."

The pair crept up the stairs, not wanting to alert Kreacher of their movements. When they reached the top, there were four doors. Two were open. Two were closed.

Harry opened one of the doors a little further. "This is the bigger loo. It's got a fairly decent sized shower and a separate tub. This and my bedroom are the only rooms I've really fixed up."

Draco peeked inside. To his surprise, it was decorated in olive greens with gold accents. He silently approved. It was quite stylish, save for the knitted doily on the toilet tank.

He didn't immediately realize that Harry had walked away. When he turned, he saw Harry walk into another room and followed.

Chuckling, Draco glanced around the bedroom. Apparently, Harry had tried to replicate the dormitories at Hogwarts.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked.

"Gryffindor to the end, eh?"

"It helps me sleep."

"Do you have trouble sleeping?" Draco suddenly became serious.

Harry shrugged.

Stepping closer, Draco stroked the side of Harry's face. "You don't have to be brave in front of me. You've done enough of that for a lifetime."

Harry swallowed. "Sometimes . . . sometimes I see them. In my dreams. All the people who sacrificed themselves."

"You were one of them," Draco said. "Just because you didn't die, doesn't make your sacrifice any less significant."

"Thank you."

"But, does this," Draco gestured around the room, "really help you sleep?"

"When I first moved in here, I'd wake up in the middle of the night, you know, from nightmares. I'd be so disoriented, not realizing where I was. A few times I disapparated. I ended up in Diagon Alley, or at the Burrow, or at the Tube station."

"That must have been scary."

"Only until I came to my senses and realized the war was over and I was safe," Harry told him. "Then I felt foolish. I redecorated my room to look like Hogwarts and it helped. I didn't disapparate before I realized where I was. Gradually, when I woke up in the middle of the night, I could fall back asleep pretty quickly."

"I'm sorry I teased you." Draco pulled him into a hug.

"It's all right," Harry replied. "It is sort of silly."

"No. Not at all."

They stood in the middle of the room hugging for a few minutes. Harry wasn't sure when it turned from a comforting embrace to wandering hands and nuzzles.

Draco's cheek brushed against Harry's. Then he kissed and nibbled Harry's ear. He made his way across Harry's face and tenderly kissed his lips. "I'm sorry we wasted so much time fighting," he whispered, "when we could have been snogging."

"The important thing is, we're snogging now."

Harry walked Draco backward toward the bed, then pushed him down onto it. Slowly, Harry began to unbutton Draco's trousers.

"What are you doing?"

"Did you think I was joking when I said I wanted to pull down your trousers and suck you until you explode?"

Draco's breath caught in his throat. Harry continued to unbutton and open the zipper. He had only tugged the trousers and pants down mid-thigh before descending upon Draco's cock.

"Oh, dear sweet Merlin," Draco panted as Harry's hot mouth surrounded him. Already half hard when they started, Draco rose to full mast with speed.

His hands clutched at the bedcovers in an attempt to keep himself from bucking into Harry's mouth too forcefully. He lifted his head to watch as Harry's head bobbed up and down, revealing and concealing his pale pink cock. For all his rumored experience, Draco was new to the joys of fellatio.

"Fuck. Harry. That's good."

Harry hummed in response.

Dropping his head back and closing his eyes, Draco was lost in the sensations of lips and tongue, and occasionally fingers on him. He heard a sound that was vaguely familiar, but he was having a difficult time concentrating on anything but Harry's mouth. The bed started jiggling erratically.

"Harry," Draco grunted out when he realized what Harry was doing. "Stop."

"Don't you like this?" Harry panted.

"Love it. I meant for you to stop wanking. I could . . . do that for you."

"I couldn't help myself," Harry blushed. "How about if I wank us both?"

He kicked off his shoes, trousers and boxers and straddled Draco's thighs, rubbing their cocks together. Lube wasn't necessary. They were both leaking a fair amount, giving just the right amount lubrication and friction when he wanked them together.

Harry alternated between watching Draco's face and watching their cocks poke through the hole created by his hands. He couldn't decide which was more fascinating. When Draco's hands found their way under his shirt, Harry knew he wouldn't last much longer.

"I'm gonna . . . I'm gonna . . ."

"Don't close your eyes," Draco demanded. "Look at me when you cum."

Harry stared into Draco's eyes, crying out and shooting his load onto Draco's shirt. His hands didn't stop pumping until Draco spilled himself, adding to the mess.

Still out of breath, Harry leaned forward and kissed Draco with enough passion to make his cock stir again. Before it could come back to life, Harry leaned back and grinned.

"Sorry about your shirt. I was planning on eating that."

Draco laughed. "Well, you're certainly not coy."

"Why bother being coy? I know what I want. The only way to get it is ask." He leaned a little closer. "Or take it."

"Take it?"

"Figuratively speaking," Harry assured him. "I would never do something you don't want me to. All you ever have to do is tell me to stop. But, I may try to take some liberties from time to time."

"Like pulling down my trousers and sucking me until I explode?"

"To be fair, I did warn you," Harry smiled. He got off Draco's legs and retrieved his wand from his jeans pocket, casting a Scourgify on Draco's shirt.

"You didn't hear me complaining, did you?" Draco smirked as he pulled up his trousers.

"No. I heard you making lewd and vulgar noises. Noises I'd very much like to hear again."

"I think that could be arranged."

After dressing, Harry sat back on the bed and patted it, beckoning Draco to sit with him. He scooted further back and rested his head on the pillow.

"I'm knackered," he said. "Lie down with me for a little while."

Draco lay stiffly beside him. "What if your elf comes in?"

"Kreacher? You're worried about him coming in _now_? Not earlier?"

"Well, I didn't have time to think about it before."

"He's busy preparing a meal fit for a Black, remember? Come here." Harry tugged Draco closer, spooning him from behind. By the time he had finished snuggling into a comfortable position, Harry had an arm and a leg draped over Draco. He sighed and closed his eyes. Before long, both of them had fallen asleep.

About twenty minutes passed before Draco opened his eyes, surprised that he had been able to sleep at all. But Harry's warm body pressed up against his back was so comfortable. He felt Harry stir.

"Are you awake?" Harry asked.

"Mhm."

Harry hugged him a little tighter. "This is nice. I've never slept with anyone before. Have you?"

"Uh, no."

"Then this would be the first time for both of us." Harry felt Draco's body stiffen when he kissed the back of his neck. He gave a small chuckle. "I meant only sleeping. I don't want to pressure you."

Draco sat up. "Oh. Okay."

Sensing Draco's discomfort, Harry dropped the subject. He got up from the bed to retrieve his shoes.

Draco's hand caught Harry's arm. "Harry, I . . . have a confession to make."

"A confession? That's sounds naughty." At first, Harry was ready to continue the banter. But seeing the serious expression on Draco's face, he questioned, "What is it?"

"Well, it's about . . . when we were switched. I . . . oh, you'll think I'm awful."

"No I won't. Tell me."

Draco remained quiet for a minute or two before he finally gathered up the courage.

"When we were switched, I took advantage of your body." He glanced up briefly at Harry.

"Took advantage?"

"I did things . . . with it."

"You mean, like, wanked?"

Draco nodded shamefully.

"And you think I didn't do that with yours?"  
"What?"

"Draco, at least you didn't expose me to someone else, the way I did to you."

"But, that wasn't quite the same thing. You were having a hump with Harper. I was pretending I was with _you_. I . . . watched you," he blushed.

"I have a confession to make too," Harry admitted. "I knew about your crush on me."

Draco's mouth slowly dropped open.

"Blaise mentioned it in passing. I wasn't sure I believed it at first. Especially because you weren't exactly being nice to me," Harry laughed. "But, it gave me the courage to pursue you, as lame as my efforts were, at first."

Draco laughed too. "Not so much lame as confusing."

Harry took a deep breath. "I hope I'm making myself perfectly clear now." He kissed Draco gently.

"Perfectly."

"We'd better go and check in on Kreacher. After a bit of exertion, and a nap, I'm getting hungry."

"Me too."

Harry held out his hand. Draco took it and laced their fingers together as they started back down the stairs.

"Well, Kreacher's either going to be thrilled about us, or completely pissed off. I'm not sure which, so be prepared. He throws things sometimes," Harry warned.

When they got to the kitchen, Kreacher was just finishing up plating their dishes at the table. Each was piled high with juicy roast beef and a perfectly plumped Yorkshire pudding. He was pouring gravy over them when he noticed the pair.

"Master Draco," he bowed. "Master Harry Potter," he said, in a less cordial voice.

Harry glanced at Draco. "You already rate higher than I do."

"Sit," Kreacher ordered. "Kreacher hopes Master enjoys his meal. And –" He stopped in his tracks.

At first Harry had forgotten that he and Draco were still holding hands. It felt so natural already. And besides, he didn't want to let go.

The old elf stared at their clasped hands, but didn't say anything.

"Is something wrong, Kreacher?" Harry asked.

Long moments passed as Kreacher looked from Harry to Draco, then back at their hands, processing the situation. Finally, he answered.

"No. Will Master Draco be . . . visiting often?"

"I hope so," Harry grinned.

Draco nodded, "Yes."

Kreacher visibly shivered, not looking altogether unpleased. As much as he could, anyway. Harry supposed he relished the idea of serving the Blacks again. Or, at least one of them.

"Very good."

Much to Draco's discomfort, the old elf watched them eat. Mostly he watched Draco, perhaps waiting for approval of the meal. Harry nodded toward Kreacher and gestured at the food. A compliment from Draco would mean so much more to the elf.

"Oh," Draco caught on. "Kreacher, this is excellent. I don't know when I've ever had a better roast. And the puddings are delicious. Perfectly light and fluffy."

"Kreacher is most gratified," he bowed.

"You don't have to keep bowing," Harry told him, earning Harry a glare.

"But Master is a Black–

"He's also a Malfoy."

"Both noble pureblood houses."

Harry rolled his eyes, exasperated.

"Harry is right, Kreacher," Draco stepped in, in an attempt to find a happy medium for both Harry and the elf. "You may bow when I arrive, and when I leave, but not while I am visiting. Would that be satisfactory?" He looked to both of them, not for approval, but to let them both know he had made the decision and it was not up for discussion.

Kreacher started to bow, but stopped himself. "Yes, Master Draco."

Harry nodded his agreement.

After that, things went smoothly. Kreacher cleared the dishes and offered to serve tea and biscuits in the sitting room. While they waited, Harry had a very important question to ask Draco.

"So," he cleared his throat, "I know it's only been a day . . . but, would you like to go out with me?"

Opening his mouth, Draco frowned. "Do you mean go out, as in, go somewhere with you? Or do you mean date . . . exclusively."

Harry giggled. "Both."

"Yes," Draco nodded, then paused. "And absolutely."

"What do we do now? I've never officially had a boyfriend, really."

"You don't count Harper?"

"Technically, Harper was _your_ boyfriend," Harry laughed. "Plus, it was in secret."

Draco averted his eyes.

"I'm not asking you to tell everyone . . . yet," Harry was quick to add. "Maybe we could go somewhere nobody knows us. A muggle place. I could ask Hermione for a suggestion. She won't tell anyone if I ask her not to. Ron either."

"Are you sure? Won't they try and talk you out of dating me?"

Harry shrugged. "Ginny seemed all right with it. I would think she'd have as much right as anyone to protest. But she didn't."

"All right. Then I guess that would be okay."

After tea and biscuits, Draco reluctantly left. His parents thought he had simply gone shopping and didn't want to stay out too late, arousing their suspicion. When he was questioned about it, Draco told his parents he met up with an old classmate from Hogwarts and they decided to stop for a bite to eat. Technically speaking, it was the truth.

Wednesday and Thursday didn't work for either Harry or Draco. Blaise was planning to stop by for a visit and Harry had made plans to see Headmistress McGonagall.

"What about Friday?" asked Draco.

"Oh, uh, I . . ."

"Am I being too pushy? I shouldn't have assumed."

"No, that's not it. I was just planning on spending the day cleaning. Regulus' old room is a wreck. And I'd like to turn it into a guest room for Teddy."

"Teddy? Tonks?"

"Yes. He's my Godson. He's still a bit young for me to take overnight. I'm not quite ready to take care of a one year old," Harry laughed. "But, eventually I'd like to have him here sometimes."

"Oh, I didn't realize."

"How about Saturday then?"

Draco pouted. "Pansy's having an engagement party."

"She's getting married?"

Nodding, Draco told him, "Many of the pureblood families who supported Vol . . . Voldemort's agenda are now trying to distance themselves from the war by forming alliances with respectable families. I think Pansy's fiancee is from Austria. His family was against the Death Eaters."

"It's an arranged marriage?"

"Yes."

"That's awful," Harry commented.

"All Pansy cares about is being kept in the lifestyle to which she is accustomed. She'll probably find a lover on the side if this fellow isn't to her liking."

Harry was in disbelief that Draco mentioned Pansy having an extramarital affair so casually. "Poor bloke."

"Why? He'll probably take one as well," Draco shrugged.

"What kind of marriage is that?"

"A marriage of convenience. That's all arranged marriages are."

"Are you supposed to have an arranged marriage?" asked Harry.

"My parents would never do that to me. Not many families do that anymore anyway. Well, they didn't before the war. Now, people like the Parkinsons and the Clagburns are trying to act as if they've been on the right side all along." Draco paused. "Sunday?"

Harry shook his head. "Sunday I'm getting together with Ron and Hermione.

"Then I guess we won't see each other until next week."

"I guess. Why don't we plan to go to supper on Monday then?" Harry suggested. "By then I'll have found a nice muggle restaurant."

"All right." Draco sighed. "That's almost a week away."

He left Harry with a searing goodbye kiss and a grope that nearly made Harry change his mind about visiting McGonagall on Thursday.

hdhdhdhdhd

It was coming up on half-three before Harry finally decided to take a break from cleaning Regulus' room on Friday. Kreacher had made him a large breakfast which carried him throughout the morning. But his rumbling stomach by mid-afternoon distracted him.

He wandered down to the kitchen to grab any old thing so he could get back to cleaning. Kreacher suddenly appeared by his side.

"What would Master Harry Potter like for lunch?"

"You don't have to make my lunch. You already made me breakfast."

"This is a house elf's duty," Kreacher replied. "Kreacher is happy to serve."

"Since when?" Harry laughed.

"Since Master has become . . . _friends_ with Master Draco."

"Oh, I see."

"Will Master Draco be joining Master Harry Potter soon?"

"Not until Monday." He noticed the elf's disappointment. "I know. I miss him too."

The floo in the other room roared to life and Kreacher literally ran to answer it. Harry had never seen the elf run before. It was as though being able to serve the Blacks again breathed new life into him.

As Harry walked into he sitting room, Draco was coming through.

"I know you're busy, but I realized what today is. And I couldn't let it pass without some sort of acknowledgement."

Harry looked at him warily.

"I didn't figure it out before because I wasn't really keeping track of the date." Draco held out a package. "Happy birthday."

"Draco, you didn't have to get me anything. I completely missed your birthday."

"We weren't dating when it was my birthday. And besides, you've already given me the best gift you ever could– my family's freedom. Open it."

Feeling self-conscious, Harry sat down on one of the couches to unwrap the small, yet weighty gift. He carefully untied the ribbon and pulled back the paper. Inside was gold scrolled hook for his owl cage.

"Is it too practical?" Draco second-guessed himself.

"No, it's great," Harry smiled, relieved that the gift was not too personal in nature. "I like the idea of hanging the cage, rather than putting it on a pedestal."

Draco walked over to the cage and regarded the bird. "Have you decided on a name yet?"

"Well, I've been thinking that the light patch from his beak to his belly sort of looks like a long beard. So I was going to call him Albus."

Draco chuckled. "I think it suits him."

"Thank you," Harry said softly. "Typically, I'm not fond of birthdays. But you've made this one special."

He wrapped his arms around Draco's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Draco immediately responded by using his tongue to pry open Harry's lips. Not that Harry was resisting. On the contrary, he welcomed the intrusion, letting Draco know how much by sliding his hands down to the blond's tiny are and squeezing. Draco pulled him closer.

"Mm." Harry broke away. "I'm all dirty and sweaty. Sorry." He tried to back up.

"Yes. Yes, you are." Draco wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Maybe you ought to shower. I could . . . help with that," he offered shyly.

Harry exhaled sharply. The thought of having Draco's hands on him in the shower was too tempting to pass up. He took Draco's hand, pulling him past Kreacher, who had been observing with a mixture of disgust and delight on his face.

"Kreacher, we'll need an early supper in about . . . twenty, no, make it half an hour."

They bounded up the stairs, into the loo, and shut the door behind them.

It was, by far, Harry's best birthday yet.

hdhdhdhdhd

"I can't remember the last time we all came to the Three Broomsticks," Hermione remarked. She glanced around, taking note of a couple sitting quite close together in the corner.

Ron laughed. "Remember Sixth Year when you were a little pissed and started talking about snogging me."

"Yes, Ron, thank you for bringing that up," Hermione blushed.

"I'm the one who should be embarrassed," said Ron. "I was too much of a berk to pick up on what you were saying."

"The two of you certainly did dance around it long enough," Harry chuckled, picking up his tankard and taking a drink.

"Yeah, but it was sort of fun," said Ron. "Flirting and fighting. Sometimes at the same time."

"It was hard to tell the difference with you, Ron," Hermione joked. "Frankly, I was never quite certain where I stood. But, in a way, it did make it a little fun. Except when you were snogging Lavender."

Ron reached across the table. "I would rather have been snogging you."

"Or fighting with me."

"Speaking of which," Harry interrupted.

"Speaking of what?" asked Ron. "Snogging or fighting?"

"Both, actually." Harry had begun to get nervous as he worked up the courage to say what he had to say.

Hermione and Ron glanced at each other. Knowing Harry as well as they did, they waited for him to make some sort of pronouncement. He seemed not to have trouble speaking his mind, except when it came to personal matters.

"I, um." He took another drink. "There's something I wanted to tell you. I'm not sure what you'll think of it."

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not as bad as you think it is, mate."

"Well, I don't think it's bad at all," said Harry. "In fact, I think it's . . . the best thing to happen to me in a long time."

"Then we should be happy for you, Harry. What is it?" Hermione questioned.

"I've found someone that I like very much. And we've begun . . ." Harry frowned. What would he say? That they were dating in secret? Draco was still mostly in the closet, so he wasn't quite sure how to put it.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" she asked.

"Yes. Sort of. He's . . . not quite out yet, though."

"Oh. Who is this lucky boy?" asked Hermione.

"He just said he's not out. Maybe Harry can't tell us."

Harry let out a breath. He trusted Ron and Hermione, literally, with his life. He knew he could trust them with a secret.

"Why isn't he out?" Ron questioned. "I didn't think it was that big a deal nowadays."

"It's not," Harry defended. "But not everyone has tolerant families like yours, Ron. You know how the purebloods are about carrying on the family name."

"Oh, so he's a pureblood?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, but that doesn't matter to me."

"And it shouldn't."

"I know of a couple local pureblood families that have, you know, queer sons," Ron blushed. "Asher Collins is much too old for you. And I heard Lloyd Farber got hitched last year to some French bloke. You're not dating some French bloke, are you?" He made a face.

"What's wrong with a French bloke?" asked Harry. "Fleur is French."

"Yeah, and she has some strange ideas sometimes."

"Well, you can put your mind at ease. It's not a French bloke."

"Then, who is it Harry? Do we know him?" asked Hermione.

Harry nodded. "I told you, he hasn't come out publicly yet. He almost came out to his parents on Monday, when I . . . told him how I feel."

"Monday?" Hermione cocked her head. "But that's the day you said you were going to- " She gasped loudly.

"Going where?" Ron wanted to know. "Why do I never know what's going on?"

Harry blushed. "I hadn't expected you to remember that, Hermione. I suppose I should have known better."

Ron tapped the table for attention. "Will one of you tell me what's going on?"

Hermione put her hands in her lap and bowed her head slightly. It wasn't her place.

"Hermione, in her usual brilliance, has figured out that I'm dating Draco Malfoy."

Ron's expression hadn't changed. "Stop fucking around and tell me."

"I'm not fucking around. I really am dating Draco."

Ron glanced around, as though someone was going to pop out and tell him the joke was on him. But Harry didn't crack a smile.

"You're serious?"

Harry nodded.

"But . . . _why_?"

"Because, I got to know him a little better. And I like him. I understand why he's done the things that he's done. He really is misunderstood. And he's been trying to make up for . . ." Harry trailed off. His words seemed to fall on deaf ears, where Ron was concerned anyway.

"You were convinced he was a Death Eater. How can you even _think_ about dating a Death Eater?"

"The war is over, Ron. Death Eaters no longer have any power. His family has turned their backs on them. The Mark doesn't control them anymore."

"But what about all the other shit? He called Hermione a mudblood. And what about all the times you've hexed each other."

"Fighting or snogging, it's a fine line," Harry tried to joke.

"That's not the same. Hermione and I were always friends, no matter how much we argued. You and Malfoy, you hated each other."

"Yes," Harry conceded. "We did, until we had the opportunity to get to know each other. We talked for hours, about everything, even personal things. We even traded secrets that we couldn't tell anyone else."

"When, Harry?" queried Hermione. "When did you have time for this?"

"Remember when we fought in Moaning Myrtle's lavatory?"

They nodded.

"While we were in the infirmary, we had a lot of time on our hands. Madam Pomfrey encouraged us to be civil. So we were."

It was close enough to the truth that Harry only felt slightly guilty about lying.

"I was extremely vulnerable, and so was he. But we opened up to one another. I offered to help him get away from the Death Eaters, but he would never leave his family. Even though it could've cost him his life. I admired him for that."

"It's still quite a leap," Ron said.

"I know," Harry acknowledged. "It's hard for you to understand, but it's happened. I want to be with him, and he wants to be with me."

Ron shook his head. "How is this supposed to work? He'll never accept a blood traitor and a . . . a muggle born as part of his life. And we're not giving you up."

Harry smiled. "I don't plan on giving you two up, either. And, I know for a fact that Draco will accept you. He already has."

"But his family-" Ron's brow furrowed, then raised, then furrowed again. "Wait, you were visiting his house? His parents let you in?"

"That's right," Harry said. "I was even invited for brunch."

"How the fuck did you manage that?"

"Gifts, and testifying on their behalf. Plus, I'm pretty sure Narcissa suspects there's something between me and Draco. She made a comment about us looking like we were snogging when we were in his bedroom."

"Ugh, mate, please."

Hermione stifled a laugh behind her hand. "She _didn__'__t_. Wait, were you?"

"Uh," Harry blushed.

"Eew." Ron's nose wrinkled.

"Ron, please," Harry begged. "Try to have an open mind. The Malfoys have changed. Admittedly, I still don't care much for Lucius. However, Narcissa has quite a sense of humor. And she's to the point. I think she actually likes me. I really don't think she'll mind me dating Draco." Harry caught the curl of Ron's lip. "Ron, I hope you can get past all the bad feelings about Draco. This is important to me."

"I, uh, I'll try."

"He will too. I can promise that."

Ron looked to Hermione. At least she seemed as apprehensive about trusting Malfoy as he was.


	15. first date

***I feel like I'm back on track with this story. I had a whole weird thing in which Harry had to follow some ridiculous pureblood rules in order to date Draco. But I'm glad I decided to scrap that. Not that dating is going to be easy for them. Harry is ready to come out, but Draco isn't.**

**yoohoo69- thank you so much for your kind words! And, you were the 100th reviewer :)**

**SlytherinLegacie338- I will eventually bring Blaise back, but not Pansy**

**Thanks also to cassy1994, TheBlueGummyBear, YinKeket, Michael Hunter, HowlingRain and sj. not (FF doesn't like your name for some reason) for reading and reviewing. You keep this thing going!**

* * *

"Are you all right?"

Harry and Draco sat in an intimate corner of a muggle restaurant. Harry's eyes danced nervously about the place.

"What?" he asked.

"Do you want to leave?" Draco asked him. "Clearly, you're uncomfortable." He sighed. "Maybe you're not ready to come out in public either. But, I thought that's why we picked a muggle place. Nobody here should recognize you."

Harry blinked. "I'm not worried about being recognized. And I'm not uncomfortable coming out in public. I'm proud to be seen with you. I _want_ them to know we're together." He glanced around. "It's this place. I've never eaten in such a fancy restaurant. Everything is so expensive and I don't even know what most of this stuff is."

"I can afford it," Draco said.

"So can I. I asked you to come to supper with me. I'll not have you paying for dinner." Harry frowned at the menu.

"I know some French. How about if I order for both of us?" Draco offered. "Do you like duck?"

Nodding, Harry answered, "Yes. But . . . I should be ordering for you. I asked you out."

"Harry," sighed Draco. "We're both men. We're going to come across many situations where we both want to be in charge," he blushed. "I'll let you pay for dinner if you let me order for you."

"All right."

When the server came to take their order, Draco spoke fluently with a spot on French accent. Harry's mouth dropped open, as he found it extremely attractive and arousing. He'd always thought Fleur's accent was somewhat sexy. But hearing it come from Draco's mouth was turning him on despite being in the middle of a public place. The server wrote on a small pad, smiled and replied in French.

Draco blushed again, prompting Harry to question what the girl said to him.

"Oh, uh," Draco chuckled nervously. "She, um, just said, by the look on your face, I was going to get . . . lucky tonight."

Harry's eyes bulged. Swallowing his embarrassment, he was quick to ask, "Lucky, as in . . ." he lowered his voice to a whisper, "sex?"

"Well, I don't think she meant gambling," Draco joked, though clearly he was embarrassed as well. "Do you think _everyone_ here knows we're a couple?"

"Does that bother you?"

Draco looked around. No one was really paying attention to them. "I suppose muggles are more liberal about that sort of thing."

"Not any more so than wizards. It just depends on the person."

"The person I'm most worried about is my father."

"Because you're bent, or because of me?"

Draco shrugged. "Both, I guess."

"Your mother doesn't seem to mind."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Come on, Draco," smiled Harry. "You don't think your mother suspects something?"

Draco only pursed his lips.

"She made a comment about us looking like we were snogging."

"No, she said _I_ looked like I was snogging."

Harry rolled his eyes. "But what about asking me if the only room I got to see was your bedroom. _That_ was pretty suggestive."

"Mother is not _suggestive_. She'll usually say what she means."

"Maybe she didn't want to embarrass you."

Draco pursed his lips again.

"We can talk about something else if you like," Harry smiled. "Oh, I guess I should tell you that Ron and Hermione know."

"You told them?"

"Hermione put two and two together before I had a chance. She remembered that I was planning to deliver the tapestry to your house. Anyway, they're going to keep an open mind."

Nodding, Draco said. "I told Blaise, too. But not Pansy. She can't keep a secret if her life depends on it," he laughed.

"What did he say?"

"He was surprised to find out you're queer. But he said it was about time I stopped–

"Stopped what?"

Draco's face turned bright pink as he stared at his empty plate. He hadn't meant to actually tell him what Blaise said.

"Aw, come on," Harry whinged. "What did he say?"

A server came by delivering a small basket of breads to the pair, saving Draco from having to answer immediately, and compose himself. After the server left, Harry prompted him again.

Sighing, Draco told him, "Blaise said it was about time I stopped wanking over you and started," he glanced around before finishing in a hushed voice, "fucking you."

Instead of being embarrassed as Draco predicted, Harry grinned.

"I always did like Blaise."

"Bollocks."

"Okay, maybe not always. But when I was in Slytherin, he wasn't so bad."

The server was back with a plate of hors d'oeuvres. Porcini mushroom tartlets and a mini ramekin of chicken liver pâté with pistachios were placed on the table between them.

Harry forgot what they were talking about when he looked at the food.

"What _is_ this?"

"Porcini tartlets," Draco answered. "Mushrooms. Do you like mushrooms? I forgot to ask."

"They're all right I guess." He wrinkled his nose. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the ramekin.

"Chicken liver pâté. It's heavenly."

Draco picked up a demitasse spoon and scooped a small amount of pâté, spreading it on a piece of baguette. He held it out for Harry to take.

Harry sniffed it.

"Don't smell it, just eat it," Draco chuckled.

Reluctantly, Harry took a tiny bite. Draco spread more on another piece of bread for himself. He looked like he was enjoying it immensely. He noticed Harry take a rather large drink of wine to wash it down.

"You don't like it?"

Harry tried to hide his distaste, but couldn't. "No. It's horrid."

Disappointed, Draco picked up a tartlet. "Here, maybe you'll like this better."

Hesitating before taking a bite, Harry smiled once he did. He chewed and swallowed without needing the wine. "I like that one."

"You can have the tartlets. I'll eat the pâté."

They ate in silence for a while, enjoying their respective hors d'oeuvres. By the time they finished, the server was bringing their main dishes to the table.

"I thought you said you were ordering duck," commented Harry, looking at the dark pink medallions of meat that looked like they had been rolled in tiny pebbles.

"This _is_ duck. Almond crusted duck with chanterelle salad. Oh." Draco's shoulders slumped slightly. "It's more mushrooms. I should have asked what you like before I ordered."

Harry picked up his fork and speared a skinny mushroom. "It's sort of sweet. But are you sure this meat is cooked? I've never had duck that looked like this."

"It's rare. That's the way it's supposed to be."

Being a good sport, Harry tried everything. It wasn't the sort of meal he was used to. And if he was being honest, he didn't really care for most of it. But Draco appeared to delight in the meal, savoring each bite and finishing off with sips of wine. Harry would gladly sit through another meal like it just to see Draco happy. When their waitress came by to check on them, Draco gave a glowing review of the cuisine.

During the meal, they kept the conversation light. Draco shared stories of when he was a child, and some of the lighter moments at Hogwarts with his friends. Harry had already told Draco as much about his childhood as he could, without being totally depressing, when they had been switched. Instead, he shared his hopes for the future.

Harry talked about his excitement regarding Auror training with Ron. The two of them were planning to go through training and be partnered up together, eventually. When he asked Draco about his plans, the mood dropped.

"What plans can I possibly make?" Draco questioned. "I don't want to go back to Hogwarts. But without my N.E.W.T.s, I'm not really eligible for training or a job at the Ministry. Not that they would take me anyway. I suppose I'll live off the family money, the way my parents will have to. I don't know how long it will last."

"Draco, you weren't even charged formally. You should be able to do whatever you want."

"You saw the reaction in Diagon Alley. Charged or not, people see me as a Death Eater. With good reason, I suppose."

"The Mark doesn't make you a Death Eater. It was forced on you. You never did anything–

"I cursed Katie Bell. Maybe not directly, but it was still my fault. And I poisoned Ron." Draco looked around, fearing his voice had carried too loudly. "How can you not hate me?"

"Because, I know it wasn't what you felt in your heart. Dumbledore knew it too. I was there when he told you."

"What?"

"I was there, hiding, the night Dumbledore . . ." Harry's lip trembled.

Draco reached across the table to take his hand, not caring for once, if anybody was looking.

"I'm okay," Harry whispered. "Dumbledore put a body bind on me. I couldn't move or speak, but I could see and hear what happened. He didn't believe you were going to kill him. And neither do I."

"Thanks, but, so what? Everybody else believes I'm a Death Eater."

"Not everybody," Harry pointed out. "Dag doesn't. And some of the other businesses you patronize. I don't. Neither do Ron and Hermione. I never told anyone about your Mark. I mean, not for sure. At the beginning of Sixth Year I told them I thought you became a Death Eater. But I never told them that I saw your arm. And actually, Ron and Hermione thought I was a bit barmy for thinking you were one of them."

"That's ironic. I would have thought they'd believe the worst about me."

"It isn't fair that you feel like you have to hole up in your house. You should be able to have a career and travel where you want."

"Well, legally, I can do those things. But, like I said, who's going to want me to work for them?"

It made Harry angry that after all Draco and his mother had done to try and help him, they were still being ostracized. Harry felt slightly guilty for not having any sympathy for Lucius, but he liked Narcissa. And he was fairly certain what he felt for Draco went far beyond like.

After the dishes were cleared, their waitress asked if they'd like dessert. Again, Draco took the liberty of ordering for them both, treating Harry to more of his French accent.

"I don't suppose they have treacle tart here," Harry said. "What did you order?"

"Nothing with mushrooms," joked Draco. After their previous conversation, he wanted to lighten the mood. "Please tell me you like raspberries."

"Very much," Harry answered.

"Good," Draco sighed with relief. "I think you'll really like this."

The server brought two single sized ramekins. "Who gets which?" she asked, using English in her French accent.

"You can put them in the middle," Draco told her. "We're going to share."

"How romantic," she winked as she walked away, making him blush again.

"This is a raspberry clafoutis," explained Draco. "And this one is crème brûlée."

"They're so small," Harry remarked.

"They're quite rich. This will be plenty, believe me."

They each dipped a spoon in the crème brûlée, breaking the caramelized sugar on top together. Harry liked the way it looked sort of like stained glass. He tried the clafoutis as well, to see which one he liked better. He may not have cared for the rest of the meal, but he thoroughly enjoyed dessert. Draco tried both, but since he ate all of his pâté and duck, he was too full for more than just a few small spoonfuls. He was happy to see Harry taking pleasure in their dinner for a change.

"Those were delicious," Harry proclaimed. "Even better than treacle tart."

He left a generous tip and paid the bill while Draco excused himself to the loo. Afterward, they stood outside the restaurant.

"So . . . it's not very late," Harry said.

"No," Draco agreed, looking at his gold watch. "It's only half nine."

"Would you like to come to my house?"

Harry was a little disappointed that Draco hesitated. For some reason, he'd assumed that Draco was a bit prurient in nature. But in reality, he was rather timid regarding sexual interaction. Even when he was the instigator, Draco had a gentle way about him. Except for their first sexual encounter, Harry had been the aggressor, taking charge, physically. He'd been the one to lay his hands or mouth on Draco first.

"I don't have any expectations," Harry assured him. "I won't lie, and say I'm not hoping . . ." he laughed.

That made Draco smile and relax a bit. "All right. For a little while."

They walked to an out of the way place to disapparate. Upon arriving in his sitting room, Harry had to remind himself that he just told Draco in so many words that he would be a gentleman. But the blond looked so . . . delicious. And Harry wasn't quite full yet.

"Would you like some wine? I think there's some in the cellar." Harry walked through the kitchen and down to the cellar. He spied several bottles and pulled out one arbitrarily. He handed the bottle to Draco when he got back to the sitting room.

"You can't serve me this," Draco said.

"No good?" asked Harry.

Draco laughed. "_Too_ good. This is a twelve year old Cabernet Sauvignon. A good one."

"Oh."

"You should save this for something special. It isn't the sort of wine you just drink any old day."

"How do you know so much about wines?"

"I don't know that much," Draco said. "But I can read a label. My parents have served this sort of wine at posh dinner parties. You should save it."

"All right."

"Make sure you put it back in the cellar," Draco reprimanded.

Harry snickered. "Yes, mum."

There was a moment of tense silence as Draco placed the bottle on the side table.

"Harry, I–

"I said no pressure, and I meant it."

"I don't feel pressured."

Harry smiled. "I'll follow your lead then."

His eyes fluttered shut as Draco leaned forward for a kiss. Their lips glided over each other while their tongues frolicked together. Harry's hands wrapped around Draco's waist, then down to his arse before he remembered that he was letting Draco take the lead. He started to remove them, but Draco's hands put them back in place.

"Should we go upstairs before Kreacher realizes we're here?"

Draco nodded.

By the time they got to the top of the stairs, Harry was half hard from anticipation. He had to restrain himself from pouncing on the blond and ripping his clothes off. Closing the door quietly behind them, he turned to Draco.

"What do you want?" Harry asked.

"I want to . . ." Draco blushed. "I want to do what you did last time."

Trying not to grin too widely, Harry attempted to recall what that was. He'd sucked, jerked, and rubbed them together the last two times. They'd also taken a shower together. "You may have to be more specific."

"I want to try using my mouth."

"You've never done that?"

Draco shook his head.

"Don't be embarrassed," Harry told him. "I've only done it a few times."

"Really? But you're so good at it," Draco marveled.

"I'm sure you'll be great." Harry proceeded to unbutton his trousers. While he did, Draco also undressed.

Fully nude, Harry climbed onto the bed and lay back. His cock was engorged, leaning to the side, against his belly. Draco's mouth watered just looking at it. His own cock stood proudly out.

Giving a tentative lick, Draco breathed in Harry's scent. It was musky, but not pungent. And he smelled faintly of lavender. Harry must have showered not long before they went to dinner.

Draco sucked in the tip, causing Harry to gasp. It encouraged Draco to take a little more. He was rewarded with a moan.

"Mm, that feels good," Harry breathed. He relaxed into the bed and allowed Draco complete control over him.

As he got used to the mouthful, Draco swallowed more and more of Harry's cock until the whole of it was down his throat. He thought it was odd that he would gag on certain foods, yet he had no problem taking in all of Harry at once.

He fondled Harry's bollocks as he sucked and bobbed. Though it was new to him, he felt he must have been doing a decent job, if Harry's moans and groans were anything to go by. While he serviced Harry, he had the urge to touch himself. He understood why Harry wanked that first time.

Harry's hands groped for Draco, getting a hold of only his head and shoulders.

"I can't reach you. Can you . . . uhhng." Harry lost his train of thought.

Draco popped off. "Can I what?"

"Can you move up here so I can touch you?"

Reluctant to stop, Draco crawled to Harry's side and leaned over to continue.

"No, all the way up," Harry ordered.

Draco cocked his head to the side, furrowing his brow. He wasn't sure what Harry meant.

"I want you over my face. I want to suck you too."

Eyes wide, Draco's brain seemed to short circuit for a moment. But he very much wanted Harry to do that, so he complied.

"Fucking hell," Draco cried out when Harry's mouth found his cock. He was already so hard and in need of relief. He descended on Harry with gusto.

While Harry's lips and tongue worked to bring Draco to his climax, his fingers explored. First, massaging the bollocks, then Draco's firm arse. He expected his lover to buck away when he ran a finger along the divide of his cheeks. But Draco only tensed a little, and kept up the lavish attention on Harry's cock. Though Harry wanted to see how far Draco would let his finger go, his orgasm built to the point of no return.

"Look out," he panted, then took Draco back into his mouth while he came. He heard a gasp just before his own mouth was filled. Swallowing all of it, he continued to suck Draco dry.

With his hands on Draco's legs, he could feel them trembling.

"Fuck." Draco could barely keep upright. He collapsed onto his side, resting his head on Harry's inner thigh. "I'm sorry. I . . . didn't have time to warn you. Fuck, that was good."

Harry chuckled. "I told you before, I was planning on eating it."

"That was brilliant. How did you think of that? Have you done that before?"

"No. I just wanted you, and that was the only way I could think of at the time."

Draco looked at the mess on Harry's belly. He dipped a finger in it and sniffed. "What does it taste like?"

"Try it. But it's getting cold now, so it won't be the same."

Slowly, Draco held his tongue out and licked about the smallest amount possible. He didn't care for the texture, though the taste was okay.

"It's better warm," Harry laughed.

"Next time I'll have to screw up the courage to stay on."

"You don't have to," Harry told him. "I don't know why I like it, but not everyone does."

Draco closed his eyes. Harry's leg made a nice pillow. Harry was having none of it, however, and he pulled Draco up to the real pillows with him. Once again, he draped himself over his lover, and began to drift off.

"I should go," Draco whispered.

"You could stay," Harry mumbled back.

"What would my parents think?"

"They'd think you're an adult who can come and go as he pleases."

Draco scooted out from Harry's hold and sat up. "I can't just stay out all night without letting them know where I am."

Harry subconsciously rolled his eyes a little.

Pursing his lips, Draco pouted. "Not everyone is free to do whatever they please without any accountability toward anyone else. If you had parents to worry about you, you wouldn't think I'm silly."

Harry couldn't believe Draco said that. Then again, Draco was right. Harry had been on his own for so long that he didn't necessarily take into account other people's feelings regarding his well being.

Draco gasped. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you're right. Your parents would worry if you didn't come home even if you are eighteen. I forget that sort of thing sometimes. My aunt and uncle didn't care about me that way."

Practically leaping at Harry, Draco cried, "_I_ care about you. And I'm sure your friends do as well."

"Thank you. I care very much for you, too. And I really want you to stay. But I understand why you can't."

"Perhaps another time. If I plan ahead."

Harry grinned. "That's sort of a big step, isn't it? Planning to spend the night together."

"It's only been a week. Maybe it's too soon."

"No it's not," Harry countered. "We've known each other for ages. And we've had feelings for each other for a long time. Life is too short not to do what we want to do."

Draco turned away. Harry didn't come right out and say it, but Draco suspected that he was talking about Draco being afraid to come out, as well.

"I know you're not ready to tell your parents. But we should still enjoy each other's company in private as much as possible."

"You're so patient with me. I don't mean to be so high maintenance. I guess I always have been though."

Harry chuckled. Yes, he did think Draco was high maintenance. Or perhaps fussy was a better word to describe him. That was the way he had grown up, to appreciate the finer things in life. Things Harry couldn't always see the value in. But if they were important to Draco, they were important to Harry.

What surprised Harry was seeing a softer, more vulnerable side of Draco that he didn't know was there. Draco had always put up a good front, seeming tough when he wasn't. Harry had almost expected him to act aloof regarding their relationship. On the contrary, Draco was gentle and giving.

"You're not high maintenance," Harry smiled. "You're being cautious. And I'm patient with you because you're patient with me. You didn't say a word about how I pushed the food around on my plate. When I was a kid, I didn't get that much food, so I should be happy to eat whatever's in front of me."

"No you shouldn't. Why would you eat something you don't like? You can do whatever you want now. I wish I could hex those horrid people for making you feel that way. That meal was fit for a king. But if that's not what you like, that's okay. Next time we'll go someplace you'll enjoy more."

Harry smiled. There it was. The side not many people saw of Draco Malfoy. Even though he would probably hate the sort of food Harry enjoyed, he was willing to try. Just for him.

"All right. You ought to get going now though. You don't want to worry your parents."

Draco nodded. The pair dressed and went downstairs to the sitting room for Draco to use the floo. When Harry turned to go back upstairs, Kreacher was standing in the doorway.

"Master didn't tell Kreacher that Master Draco was here."

"We didn't need your services, Kreacher."

"Why has Master Draco gone?"

"He had to go home," Harry explained.

"Master hasn't driven him away?"

Harry laughed. "No, of course not. His parents are expecting him is all. And . . . we're taking things slowly. Sort of," he snickered.

Kreacher grunted as he made his way back to his own room. Harry chuckled, thinking that Kreacher had as much stake in his relationship with Draco as Harry had. It was good to know the elf was on his side for once, even if it was for purely selfish reasons.


	16. invitations

***Sorry it's taken so long for me to update. Life and obligations elsewhere kept getting in the way. Four more weeks and I'm free for the summer!**

**SlytherinLegacie338- You assume correctly that Draco and Harry did not have sex in the shower, although, they did have some fun ;)**

**Sunneedee- I haven't read your fic. But I suppose there are only so many scenarios we can dream up for our favorite couple. Some scenes are bound to be similar to something else out there. I really try my best not to let other fics influence me, which is hard because I love to read them!**

**Thanks also to cassy1994, YinKeket, Michael Hunter, sj. nots , and sjrodgers23 for reading and reviewing.**

* * *

At the end of the week, Harry had convinced Ron and Hermione to go to supper with him and Draco. He purposely chose a muggle restaurant that served Ron's favorite– fish and chips. Harry warned his boyfriend that the food would be greasy and pedestrian, not at all what Draco was accustomed to. Draco agreed to be on his best behavior.

Harry and Draco arrived at the small establishment a bit early to secure a booth in the corner. While they waited for Harry's friends, they held light conversation. Above the table. Below, they held hands and sat close enough to rub thighs.

In the middle of one of Draco's sentences, Harry impulsively leaned forward and kissed him.

"I'm sorry." Though, he didn't sound the least bit sorry. "But we haven't seen each other in three days. I couldn't help myself."

How could Draco be upset? He had missed Harry the past couple of days as well. Though he glanced around nervously, Draco smiled.

Harry took advantage, giving Draco another kiss that quickly deepened.

A throat cleared in front of them.

Pulling away, Harry opened his eyes to find Ron and Hermione standing next to the booth, each looking disgusted.

Harry didn't offer an apology. He was not sorry for kissing his boyfriend in public. At least not the muggle public.

"Please, sit down," he smiled.

The tension was palpable as his friends regarded Malfoy suspiciously. They sat stiffly across from the couple.

"So, um, Ron, Hermione, this is Draco."

"We bloody well know that," Ron muttered.

"I know," Harry said. "But I'm trying to make this a fresh start. So I thought introducing you all as new friends would help."

"Friends?" Ron sneered.

"Yes. I hope one day you'll all be friends."

Draco spoke up. "I don't think pretending that past didn't happen is the way to go, Harry. I think we all need to acknowledge the animosity between us while we were at Hogwarts."

Hermione nodded in agreement. But Ron was loathe to agree with anything Malfoy said.

"Hatred, more like," he offered.

"Ron–

"No. Don't go trying to rewrite history, Harry. Just because you're screwing him now, doesn't mean we didn't think he was a pompous fuck back then. You thought it too."

Harry gritted his teeth. Draco, on the other hand, laughed out loud.

"Well, he's not wrong," Draco said to Harry, when the latter gave him a questioning look. "They thought I was a prick, which, to be honest, I was sometimes. And I thought they were beneath me. A blood traitor and a mud– wizard of lesser standing. But _you_ know I don't anymore. It's my job to convince _them_. And sweeping the past under the rug isn't the way to do that."

"And what, do you propose, is the way to do that?" asked Hermione.

"Well, I'm not really sure." Draco furrowed his brow. "I guess the only way to do that is to spend time together so I can show you."

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. The thought of spending any amount of time with Malfoy was distasteful on both their parts.

"Suppose we agree," Hermione said, surprisingly.

Harry gasped. "Really? You would try?"

"I'd consider it," she replied. "I admit I'm curious as to what Malfoy could have told you that made you change your mind about him so completely."

"If any of it is the truth," Ron muttered.

Draco protested. "I had to tell Harry the truth. Otherwise, my friends would all know he wasn't–

"He wasn't what?"

Eyes wide, Draco looked to Harry. He nearly gave away their switch during Sixth Year. Not that Ron and Hermione would believe them anyway.

"He just means that his friends could refute any lies Draco told," Harry covered.

"Wouldn't they be more likely to corroborate them?" asked Hermione.

"You don't know my friends," remarked Draco. "Blaise is the only one who's stood by me. Even Pansy has distanced herself, since her engagement. Vincent and Greg blatantly defied me."

"Maybe if you hadn't treated them like your personal lackeys, they would have been better friends," Ron said.

Draco hung his head. "You're right. I wasn't a very good friend myself. I used people, intimidating them to get what I wanted. It wasn't until Harry . . . shared so much of his life with me. He tried to help me so many times. _Me_. Someone who treated him awfully. That was also when I discovered how wrong I had been about him."

He wanted to tell Ron and Hermione that he'd learned something about friendship from them as well. But he couldn't, not without having to explain how. Draco was pretty sure, judging by the look on Ron's face, that Harry's friends weren't ready to hear that he'd infiltrated Gryffindor pretending to be Harry.

Ron snorted. But his better half appeared to be considering Draco's words. Harry was hopeful that she would have an open mind. He was certain once she got to know Draco, she would like him as much as Harry did.

A platter of fish and chips raised Ron's mood a bit, as did talking about his family. He was pleased to tell Harry that Percy found a nice girl, and that Bill and Fleur announced that they were going to have a baby. But they'd only told family, as Fleur was only a few weeks along.

"That's brilliant," Harry beamed, as if it were his own brothers of whom Ron was speaking. "Your family could use some good news. Molly must be over the moon."

"Yeah, right now Charlie's the only one unattached. Except for Georgie. But he gets a pass these days." Ron pressed his lips together in a manner Harry had learned to mean Ron was trying not to be emotional. The mention of George's name reminded everyone of the family's loss. One couldn't mention one brother without thinking of the other.

Breaking the uncomfortable silence, Draco asked, "Has Charlie got any more hatchlings since last year?"

"No, but he thinks one of the Horntails might be ready to lay eggs," Ron answered without really thinking. Then he narrowed his eyes. "Oi, how do _you_ know about Charlie?"

"Uh . . ."

"I probably talked about it," Harry said. "Draco and I talk about all sorts of things. He's interested in dragons as much as the rest of us."

Draco simply nodded in agreement. Again, he'd slipped. And again, Harry had to cover. He was realizing it would be much harder to keep their secret from Ron and Hermione while still trying to gain their trust.

"Anyway," Ron continued, "if Charlie's right, there should be a new batch of hatchlings come September. I'd love to go see them before we're off for training."

"Yeah," Harry concurred.

"Oh, I'll be back at Hogwarts by then," lamented Hermione. She glanced at Draco, deciding to make an effort to include him for Harry's sake. "And what will you be doing?"

"Um, pretty much what I'm doing now."

"Which is?" she queried.

He lowered his gaze. "Nothing."

"Draco helped with the rebuilding of Hogwarts," Harry spoke up. "Even his father got involved."

"To fulfill his community service requirement," clarified Draco.

"But you didn't have to go as well. You did that on your own. That has to count for something."

Draco shrugged. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Of course." Hermione sat up straighter. "I'm beginning a campaign to free house elves . . ."

Hermione went on and on about her mission. Not only did she lecture Harry about Kreacher, but she had a plan to eventually replace the elves at Hogwarts with paid cooks and maids. The three boys all appeared very uncomfortable as her impassioned words grew louder in the small restaurant.

"Mione, keep it down. None of us cast a _Silencio_," Ron said quietly.

"Oh, my. Sorry," she blushed. "I didn't realize I was being so loud."

"It's all right, Hermione," Harry smiled. "It's fun to see you getting so excited about something."

"Remember what my mother said about Kreacher," Draco said, leaning close to Harry.

Harry shook his head. "Not now."

"What?" Hermione questioned. "What did your mother say?"

"Nothing, Hermione," Harry insisted.

"The house elves don't _want_ to be free," Draco told her.

"Nonsense. That's what people who own house elves say."

"Ask Harry."

"What's he talking about Harry?" asked Ron.

Harry shot Draco a look before answering. "Well, a little while back, I tried to give Kreacher clothing, to free him. He never seemed too keen on serving me anyway. But instead of accepting it, and being happy about it, he sort of . . . freaked out."

"What do you mean by freaked out?"

"He yelled at me. He practically begged me not to give it to him."

Hermione frowned. "Maybe he didn't understand the implication of–

"No," Draco cut in. "He knew exactly what Harry was trying to do. He didn't want to leave. My mother told Harry that Kreacher was probably upset because he thought Harry was making him leave his home."

Standing her ground, Hermione responded, "Well, just because _one_ house elf doesn't want to be free, doesn't mean the others don't. Dobby was proud to be free."

"Just because one house elf wanted to be free, doesn't mean the others do too," Draco pointed out.

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"Maybe it's best we get going," Ron suggested. He knew that look in his girlfriend's eye. She could talk circles around most people, but he had a feeling Malfoy could hold his own.

"You're not staying for dessert?" Harry asked.

"Another time, maybe," Ron suggested, tugging Hermione out of the booth. She was still glaring at Draco as they walked out of the restaurant.

"Why did you have to go and start a fight?" Harry pouted.

"Me?"

"Ron and I just let her go on. She's very passionate about the house elves."

Draco pursed his lips. "So, you wanted me to keep my opinions to myself."

Harry sighed. "I wanted you all to get along."

They sat in silence while a busboy came and cleared the table.

"What do you want for dessert?" asked Harry.

"I'm fine."

"You're upset with me. Why? Because I wanted tonight to go well? Because I want my best friends to, maybe, become your best friends too?"

Draco turned in his seat to face Harry. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why do you like me?"

"What? I . . ." Harry was at a loss.

"Do you like me because I agree with you all the time? Or because I am compliant?"

Harry laughed. "You are not compliant."

"Then, why?"

Realizing it was a serious question and not a joke, Harry was careful to choose his words wisely.

"Well, you're smart, and good at potions."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"I'm just getting started," Harry said. "You're sweet. And before you argue, remember how you washed my hair."

"Technically, it was my own hair."

"All right," Harry chuckled. "But, you listened to me when we talked. And you didn't make fun of the things I told you. The person I _thought_ you were would have. That was when I first started to like you. When I realized you weren't the person I thought you were."

"How did you know?"

Harry smiled. "What do you mean? Because I got to know you."

"Right," Draco nodded. "Because when we talked, I was myself. You know, I recall quite a few disagreements we had. That didn't seem to stop you from wanting to be my friend. You were actually rather persistent, in fact."

Blushing, Harry also recalled how perhaps he had been a bit overzealous in his efforts to bring Draco over to the light side. He still didn't know how Draco could possibly have missed the signs that Harry was crushing on him.

"My point in all this–

"I understand your point, Draco. You want Ron and Hermione to like you for who you are."

"Or not. But if they decide they still don't like me, I want it to be for who I am now."

"You're right," Harry nodded. "I haven't finished telling you why _I_ like you, though."

"Oh?"

Harry rested his hand on Draco's thigh. "I also like you because you're incredibly sexy." He snickered. "I don't think that will sway either Ron or Hermione."

"No," Draco whispered, as Harry's hand moved higher. "I suppose not."

"I don't think they've noticed how shiny your hair is, or the speckles of blue and green in the grey of your eyes. And they may not care if your lips are soft and kissable. Most likely, they're oblivious to your perfect little arse, as well."

Draco swallowed.

"This," Harry said, cupping Draco's crotch, "I'll keep to myself."

"We're . . . we're in a restaurant Harry," Draco breathed.

"Can I bring you anything else?" A perky server startled the pair.

Draco simply buried his reddening face in Harry's shoulder, while Harry responded.

"We'll take an order of the warm biscuits."

"Oh, you should have ordered that when you ordered your food. It will take about fifteen minutes to come out fresh."

"That's fine," Harry smiled. "We'll wait."

"Sure thing, luv."

When she left, Draco lifted his head. "It's going to take fifteen minutes for me to be able to walk out of here without embarrassing myself."

"Mm. Me too," Harry laughed. "Maybe we can make up for it later on."

hdhdhdhdhd

Just as Harry was ready to turn in for bed Sunday night, something tapped against his window. As he may have predicted, it was an owl. It wasn't the Weasley family owl, nor was it Hermione's.

He cautiously opened his window for the regal looking eagle owl. It flew into his bedroom, landing on a desk. Harry opened a cabinet for a treat to give it before trying to retrieve the message.

Harry smiled when he saw a black wax seal with a capital M. The message wasn't from Draco, however. It was from Narcissa Malfoy.

_Dearest Harry,_

_ The tapestry, which you have so generously donated, has_

_ been repaired and hung. The honour of your presence is_

_ requested at the official unveiling. Please arrive Monday, the tenth_

_ of August, at two o__'__clock in the afternoon. Tea will be served. _

_ Sincerely,_

_ Narcissa Black Malfoy_

Draco hadn't mentioned that his mother was planning an unveiling for the tapestry the next day. He wondered if Narcissa had invited Harry as a surprise. More convinced than ever that she was deliberately trying to get the boys together, Harry decided he would attend. He scribbled a quick R.S.V.P and sent the owl on its way.

Excited about going to the Manor the next day, he had some difficulty falling asleep. A quick wank as he thought about Draco's lips on his cock earlier that day did the trick.

Before he knew it, he was waking to a new a day.

"Good morning Kreacher," Harry grinned.

The elf grunted, passing a plate of eggs and rashers to him.

"Guess where I'm going today."

Appearing as though he couldn't possibly care less, Kreacher stared for a moment, then turned back to the stove.

"Aw, come on. You're not even going to take a guess?" Harry whinged.

"Kreacher has no idea where Master spends his time away from the House of Black."

"Potter. I told you, this is the House of Potter now. I don't want you to refer to it as the House of Black any more."

"As Master wishes." Kreacher sneered and bowed.

"I don't understand why you want to stay. Clearly, you don't enjoy serving me. And I've told you, you don't have to. I can cook for myself."

"And Kreacher would be the subject of gossip and ridicule. A house elf that does not serve a master has no honour."

"Talking to you is like talking in circles," Harry huffed. "I don't know how to help you. I've offered to free you, but you don't want that. You're unhappy serving me."

"Kreacher is not unhappy serving Master."

"Well, you could have fooled me."

"Master doesn't understand."

They both fell into silence as Harry ate his breakfast and Kreacher cleaned up. It was frustrating for each of them to be thrown together in a situation neither of them wanted.

When he finished, Harry told the elf, "I'm going to shower. After that I have an errand to run, then I'm visiting the Malfoys. Don't worry about supper tonight. I don't know what time I'll be home."

Harry tried not to notice how Kreacher perked up at the mention of the Malfoys. Clearly, they would be preferable company to Harry. But Lucius abused Dobby. Why would Kreacher want to serve his family?

hdhdhdhdhd

On his way to the Manor, Harry stopped at the same flower shop for something to give Narcissa. He thought she had already taken a liking to him, but flowers couldn't hurt his cause. After all, he was planning on wooing her son away from her. The girl at the flower shop had the perfect suggestion. Recognizing Harry, as most people did, she voiced her curiosity as to the object of his affections.

He simply smiled and wished her a good day. She would have to wait, like the rest of the wizarding world, until Draco was ready to come out.

Poppy answered the door, after the gate opened for Harry to make the long walk to the house. She bowed and offered to take the flowers, but he wanted to give them to Narcissa personally. When he followed the house elf to the library, Harry was stunned by the number of guests milling about in the rather large Malfoy library. He'd been expecting a much more intimate gathering.

Several guests turned, looking him up and down. He immediately regretted his choice of attire. Most of the men were wearing dress robes, though a few were dressed a bit more casually. His eyes searched the room for either Narcissa or Draco. Unfortunately, his gaze only fell upon what might have been considered to be the cream of the pureblood crop.

Not spotting his hosts, Harry thought it best to back out quietly and go back home.

"Why, Harry, you're here," Narcissa smiled, nearly bumping into him on her way into the room.

He bowed slightly. "Narcissa. I didn't realize this was going to be such a formal affair. I would have dressed–

"Nonsense. You look fine. Doesn't he, Draco?"

Harry hadn't seen Draco right off. But he stepped up closer to his mother. He was wearing deep purple robes so dark, they nearly appeared black. Under it, Harry could see a crisp white dress shirt and a lighter plum tie. His hair had been trimmed, most likely that morning. And his normally grey eyes picked up the color in his clothing, casting them in a warm violet hue. Harry's heart skipped a beat or two at Draco's sheer beauty.

"What are you doing here?"

Staring speechless for a moment, Harry blinked. "Um, I was invited." He mindlessly began to hand Draco the elaborately wrapped bunch of flowers. "You look . . ."

"I'm sure you mean to give those to my mother," Draco said, breaking Harry out of his trance.

"Oh. Yes. Of course." Harry blushed, then held out the bunch to her. "These are for you." He cursed himself for getting so flustered in front of an audience.

"It seems you have an admirer, Narcissa," Patrice Parkinson teased, sidling up to the trio.

"Jealous?" Narcissa raised a brow.

"Extremely," the woman smiled, in such a predatory way, it gave Harry shivers.

"Draco, why don't you introduce Harry around," Narcissa suggested. She turned to Patrice. "And how are Pansy's wedding plans coming along?"

Pulling Harry away from the women, Draco whispered, "What are you _doing_ here?"

"I told you. Your mother invited me. Although, I have to say, this isn't at all what I expected."

He glanced around, recognizing some, but not most.

"That explains why you aren't dressed properly. Come on, you can borrow something from me." Draco pulled Harry from the room.

"I won't fit into your clothes," Harry laughed.

Shaking his head, Draco chuckled. "Do you always forget you're a wizard? Have you never heard of shrinking or growing spells?"

Harry followed Draco up the stairs into his bedroom, after the pair made sure no one was looking. Draco went straight to his closet to find something more appropriate for Harry to wear. He held up satiny royal blue robes, to which, Harry shook his head. Then, he picked out silk crimson robes with a gold braid around the cuffs and collar.

"Don't you have anything plain?" asked Harry.

Rolling his eyes, Draco chose simple black with a white shirt and black tie. "Now, get dressed. It will look suspicious if we're gone together for too long."

"But Pansy's mother thinks I'm after your mum," Harry joked.

"Ew. Wait, the shirt is a bit small." Draco waved his wand, relaxing the fabric to fit Harry more comfortably.

"I could just leave it off," Harry said seductively, or what he hoped was seductively. He stood with the buttons undone.

"We don't have time for this," Draco said. He began to button Harry's shirt himself.

"But you look so handsome." He leaned forward for a kiss.

As much as Draco wanted to protest, he gave in to it. Before his cock could do any more than twitch, Draco broke away.

"We really need to get downstairs. People have probably seen you, and I'm sure the news has spread throughout the guests. They'll all be expecting you."

"Damn. You're right, I know." Reluctantly, he finished dressing.

The pair snuck downstairs, entering the library at different times so as not to raise suspicions. On his way to the buffet table, Harry was stopped and greeted by several people. He was able to put a name to some of them, such as the Goyles and the Parkinsons. He thought he recognized Vincent Crabbe's father as well. Standing awkwardly, Harry nibbled at the small plate of starters he prepared for himself. He wanted nothing more than to go to Draco, but he was being dragged around the room by his mother, greeting each of the guests.

Lucius was conspicuously absent. Harry could only guess that either his house arrest was too much of an embarrassment for him to make an appearance, or he was not allowed under the rules of his arrest to attend a gathering of suspected, yet unproven, Death Eaters.

The bell-like chime of a wand tapping a crystal goblet drew everyone's attention.

"Today is a day of celebration for my family," Narcissa addressed the crowd. "The restoration of the Black family tree has brought me peace and closure during difficult times. I hope to be able to restore more than this tapestry, but it is a start. And I have Harry Potter to thank for the opportunity."

Heads turned in his direction, suddenly making him the center of attention. Perhaps he should have been used to it by then. But he wasn't. Not among this particular crowd. He attempted a smile and nodded in acknowledgement to Narcissa.

She raised her glass of champaign. "To Harry. A hero in _every_ way."

Harry blushed. He was certain most of the guest did not share her sentiments. The repeat of her toast throughout the room surprised him, as did the smiles directed his way. Crabbe's father neither raised his glass, nor smiled. But Harry couldn't blame him. He was a man in pain.

"And now, for the unveiling." Narcissa waved her wand, bringing down the cloth covering the wall hanging. Those with two free hands applauded while others tapped their own wands on their goblets.

Harry was astounded by the way the tapestry looked. Not only had the burn marks been repaired and those wizards restored, the entire tapestry was several shades brighter, the gold thread used to connect the families bright and shiny. He wasn't able to get a closer look at the time because many of the other guests were perusing the wall hanging.

"It sure looks a sight better, doesn't it," Draco said quietly, suddenly standing near Harry. "When I first got a look at it, I wanted to hex you for giving my mother that hideous thing."

Harry laughed. "Well, I certainly didn't want it in _my_ house. Can we get out of here? I thought this would be a small affair with only your family."

"You're free to go," Draco pouted. "But I'm standing in for my father. Even though most of the guests know all about his house arrest, he's keeping up the pretense of _being far too busy to attend such frivolity_," he imitated his father's stern voice.

"Don't ever do that again," Harry deadpanned.

"What?"

"You sounded exactly like your father."

Draco frowned. "People tell you you're just like your father all the time. Perhaps my father isn't quite the paragon your father was, but . . ."

"It isn't that," Harry said. "I know my father was just as human as anyone else. I know he teased Snape when they were classmates, and did other things that weren't so virtuous."

"Then what is it?"

Harry leaned closer, lowering his voice. "It's that I don't ever want to be thinking of him while I'm doing lewd and lascivious things to you."

Draco nearly choked on his drink.

"Are you all right darling?" Narcissa asked as she approached.

He nodded, continuing to cough.

"Harry, have you had a chance to see the tapestry up close?"

"Uh, no." He kept his gaze on Draco until the latter finally caught his breath. "But I'm curious. What did you mean by hoping _to be able to restore more than this tapestry_?"

"A great many things that are precious to me have been broken over the years," she answered cryptically.

Once Draco had pulled himself together, and Harry made sure he was all right, the two of them walked over to the family tree. The crowd around it had thinned somewhat, allowing them to get close to it.

"It really is extraordinary," Harry said, running a finger over the fabric. "It's several centuries old, from what I understand."

It covered two walls of the library, the way it had at Grimmauld Place. But the Malfoy library was much larger and was not so overpowered by the wallhanging. Strangely enough, the family tree seemed even bigger, rather than smaller.

"Generations and generations of my mother's family."

Harry turned to Draco and chuckled. "Your family too."

"I always think of myself as a Malfoy."

"Well, Kreacher certainly thinks of you as a Black. Look, here you are."

"Ugh," Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't remind me. I hate that likeness. I look stupid."  
"I think it looks handsome."

"Sh, someone will hear you."

"Oops. I forgot." Harry sighed. "I wish I could say things like that without having to worry about anyone hearing."

Draco looked away. "I'm sorry."

"I can't believe it," Harry shook his head.

"I _know_. I said I'm sorry."

"No. I'm not talking about that." Harry pointed to the tapestry.

"What?"

"Tonks is there. And Remus."

"Well, she was my cousin." Draco's brow furrowed. He didn't know what the big deal was.

"You don't understand. She wasn't there before. Andromeda was burned off, but her husband and daughter never even made it on." Harry gently touched Remus' name. "Your mother had them put on the family tree. She even added Remus and Teddy."

"Why do you sound surprised," Narcissa's voice sounded from behind them. "Regardless of whom my sister married, she is still part of the Black family line. Nymphadora, as well."

"But Tonks wasn't a pureblood," Harry pointed out.

"True. There are precious few of my family left. Draco and my great-nephew Teddy are the ends of my branch of the family tree." She glanced away sadly, but then turned back with a smile. "Other branches, however, are flourishing. I'm considering extending the tapestry to include those otherwise dismissed."

"Like the Weasleys?" Harry questioned.

"The– _who_?" Draco's eyes widened.

"Really, Draco dear, don't you know anything about your own family history?"

"Why would the Weasleys be on here? And how do you know about it?" he asked Harry.

"Arthur told me his mother was Cedrella Black. She was burned off when she married Septimus Weasley. His name wasn't put on the tapestry, so I suppose that's why you didn't know. And, I guess that means you and Ron are . . ." He scratched his head.

"Third cousins, once removed," Narcissa finished. "Or something along those lines. Anyway, the entire Weasley clan are your distance relatives, and capable of carrying on the Black bloodline. So there's still hope."

Draco opened his mouth to protest. Then it occurred to him what what his mother was implying. She wasn't expecting Draco to carry on the bloodline. She knew about him.

"Mother, I've put in my appearance and I've personally greeted each guest. May I be excused?"

The corner of Narcissa's mouth raised slightly. "Of course, darling."

"I, um, thought I'd finish showing Harry the rest of the Manor."

"Ah, an excellent idea. Don't forget to show him the dining room."

Draco nodded, then motioned for Harry to follow him. They walked down a hall, past the sitting room, and into what Harry assumed was the dining room.

"I don't think I've ever seen a bigger dining room, except at Hogwarts," Harry marveled. "No wonder your mother is so proud of it."

"She replaced every single piece of furniture, had the walls and ceilings painted, put up new draperies, and removed the carpeting." Draco wasn't nearly as enthusiastic about the room as Harry.

"You don't like it?"

Shrugging, Draco replied, "It's a hell of a sight better than it was. But all the renovations in the world can't erase the fact that Professor Burbage was killed in here."

Harry gasped.

Draco began to walk out, but Harry caught him by the arm. "Were you here?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Looking him in the eye, Harry could see the pain and sadness there. "It wasn't your fault."

Shaking his head, Draco tried to speak. "I . . . can't . . ."

Harry pulled him close. "Let's get out of here."

Though Harry thought they would simply walk to somewhere more private, he felt the familiar pull of apparition. When they arrived in Draco's bedroom, Harry removed the borrowed robes.

"You don't have to talk about it. Why don't we just . . . lie down for a little while? I'm a bit knackered."

Draco nodded and allowed Harry to remove his robes as well. Harry loosened the tie and pulled it over his head while Draco remained unresistant. He unbuttoned the top two buttons on Draco's shirt, placing a small kiss in the hollow of his exposed neck.

Silently, Draco watched as Harry changed back into his own clothing.

"Come here," Harry beckoned.

Draco joined him on the bed, as Harry pulled him close. The sound of Harry's heartbeat was soothing, allowing Draco to take his mind off the past and concentrate on the present. A few months ago, the present was a precarious state. And the future was nearly unimaginable. A small smile graced his face. A future with Harry was not only imaginable, it was possible. If he could gather up the courage to make it happen.

He snuggled his back into Harry's chest. Narcissa might have wondered where the two of them had gone, but at that moment, he didn't care. In a way, he was almost hoping she would come looking. And find them.


	17. out of the broom closet

***Wow, has it really been that long since I posted a chapter of this story? My apologies. This chapter is a continuation of chapter 16. In case you've forgotten, it's after Narcissa's party, when Harry and Draco fell asleep up in Draco's room.**

**SlytherinLagacie338, xxxLeanniexxx, guest, ReedSuckingNinjaClarinetist, cassy1994, sjrodgers23, Michael Hunter, Kim, DRARRYLOVR4EVERINMYHEART, and ShadowBrand- THANK YOU for reading and reviewing, and having some patience with my intermittent postings.**

* * *

Draco opened his eyes. The room was warm, warmer than it should have been. He felt a puff of hot air on the back of his neck. Realizing that it must have been Harry's breath, and that they had fallen asleep, he jumped up out of bed. So much for secretly hoping his mother would find him with Harry.

"Shit, what time is it?"

"Hm?" Harry responded groggily.

"We fell asleep."

"Oh." Harry sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Oh? That's all you have to say?"

"Draco, calm down. Nobody even knows I'm here." Harry yawned. "What time is it?"

Draco looked at the clock. "It's nearly half five. All the guests will have gone by now. It will be harder to sneak you out of the house now."

"Or . . . we could just walk downstairs and tell your parents about us," suggested Harry.

Shaking his head, Draco dismissed the idea. "My mother was able to convince some of the most influential families to attend her party. I won't go and ruin that now."

"How will it be ruined?"

"You don't understand high society. Appearance is everything."

"Well, that's stupid," Harry grumbled.

"It may be stupid, but it's important to my parents. If it gets out that their only son is just a little fairy–

"You are not a fairy. And would your parents really put those people above you?" Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "I still think your mother _wants_ us to be together."

Draco's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "You really think that. You don't know anything about the purebloods or the aristocracy my family has been a part of for generations."

"That's your father's side. The Blacks may have fancied themselves elitists but they were hardly high society. They were wealthy, but they had no class."

Frustrated, Draco let out sigh. "It doesn't matter what you think. Or what I think. What matters is that my father has been humiliated and lost much of his status. That unveiling was a way for my mother to see how badly our family reputation was damaged."

"But there were loads of influential people here."

"Exactly. So, I don't want to ruin it."

Harry frowned. "Are the purebloods really that prejudiced against gays?"

"Well, let me put it this way, if I'm with a man, I can't very well produce a pureblood child. I won't produce _any_ child with another man."

"Right. But there are other options."

"Not for snobby purebloods."

"Are you certain?"

Harry's question was met with silence.

"All right," Harry finally relented. "I won't press it. I'm sure Ron and Hermione will keep mum."

A faint rumbling came from Harry's belly. He sheepishly glanced at Draco, and they both began to laugh.

"I didn't get a chance to eat much."

"It'll be supper soon."

"I'd better go then," Harry said. "Um, maybe we could say that after you showed me the house, we played chess or something."

Draco nodded. "I guess. We could say that you were uncomfortable with all the dark wizards milling about so you didn't want to go back downstairs."

"Actually," Harry laughed, "that would be true." He stood and walked around the bed. Draco stood to join him.

"I'm sorry. I know you don't think coming out is a big deal."

Harry smiled. "Well, I don't know if I'd go that far. I haven't exactly made it public. You'll tell your parents when you're ready."

"Yeah. For now, let's go see if there is any food left."

They crept quietly down the stairs, hoping the Malfoys didn't catch them.

"Master Draco," Poppy bowed, startling the pair as she appeared out of nowhere.

Draco gasped. "Poppy, don't do that. You scared the shit out of me."

"Poppy is so sorry Master Draco," she bowed again. "Poppy was only performing her duties."

"It's all right. I suppose you didn't know we would be standing here. Is the buffet still set up?"

"Oh, yes, Master Draco. May I serve masters?"

"No. That's all right. We'll get our own food," Harry said. "But thank you."

"You can continue with your duties, Poppy," Draco told her, and pulled Harry into the library. They stopped when they spotted Lucius.

"Draco, where have you been?" Lucius sneered a bit as he looked Harry up and down. "Potter," he acknowledged with a curt nod.

"Mr. Malfoy," Harry returned.

"Um, we were . . . uh, playing chess." Draco glanced at Harry, still unsure that was a plausible alibi.

"Oh. Well, I hope you're hungry. As usual, your mother had the house elves prepare too much food." Lucius had been in the middle of piling a plate when the boys walked in.

Draco picked up a plate and handed it to Harry before taking another for himself. All three filled their respective plates in silence.

After Lucius had finished, he turned to walk out, then paused. He eyed up the pair dubiously. His mouth opened as if to speak, but instead, he left the room shaking his head.

"What do you suppose that was about?" Draco asked Harry.

"What?"

"Didn't you see? My father gave us a _look_."

"What sort of look?"

"I don't know." Draco pursed his lips together. "Disapproving? No, more like suspicious. Do you think he didn't believe my story that we were playing chess?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, we were gone an awfully long time. But he didn't say anything, so . . ."

"I'm being paranoid."

"A bit."

Draco gasped. "You're not supposed to _agree_ with me."

Harry smiled. "Either you're paranoid or your father suspects something's going on between us. Which do you prefer?"

When Draco hesitated to answer, Harry gave him a playful poke in the ribs.

Draco gave out an involuntary giggle. "Stop."

Raising an eyebrow, Harry grinned. "You're ticklish?" He poked him again.

Draco tossed his plate onto the buffet and went for Harry's belly with both hands. To his disappointment, the Gryffindor hero just stood there. Letting out a huff, Draco stopped and picked up his plate. "Figures."

"What figures?" Harry chuckled.

"You're like a fucking superhero, impervious to all the weaknesses that we mere mortals possess."

"I do have _one_ weakness."

"What's that?" Draco asked, still pouting somewhat.

"You."

Draco stared, taking in a breath.

"And I am ticklish, just not there."  
"Where, then?"

"That, you'll have to find out for yourself." Harry wiggled his eyebrows. He continued to put food on his plate.

Draco stared for a while before retrieving his own plate. "Shall we sit on the terrace?"

"What a lovely idea, dear," Narcissa smiled as she walked in. "Harry, I didn't realize you were still here."

"Uh, we were playing chess," Draco replied stiffly. "Too many . . . um, people. Harry was–"

"A bit overwhelmed," Harry finished with a shy smile.

"Oh, I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable. I just wanted to acknowledge the joy you've brought to our family."

"It really wasn't necessary."

"Well, at least I'm glad to see the two of you eating. Lucius said I always have the house elves make too much food," she chuckled. She picked up a small plate and filled it with assorted fruits. "I think I'll join you boys."

With no apparent way out of it, Draco and Harry ate their meals on the terrace with not only Narcissa, but Lucius as well.

"Are you planning to attend the Hogwarts grand reopening, Harry?" Narcissa asked.

"Yes, of course. Aren't you?" he queried.

"No. Lucius may not attend, and I don't want to go without him. But you should go Draco darling."

"I don't think that's a good idea," he replied.

"Why ever not?"

"Mother, you know why. I was on the wrong side. _We_ were on the wrong side. I can't just show up uninvited."

"There weren't any specific invitations," Harry offered. "It's open to the wizarding public. And since you helped rebuild, I think you should go. Don't you want to see all the renovations?"

Draco shrugged. "I wouldn't mind seeing the renovation. It's the people I don't want to see."

"You'll have to start appearing in public sometime, Draco," Narcissa pointed out. "And what safer place than Hogwarts to do it?"

Harry smiled. "I agree. Professor, I mean, Headmistress McGonagall won't stand for any misbehavior. Why don't you bring Blaise so you won't have to go alone?"

"Why don't you go with Harry?" suggested Narcissa.

Lucius' head snapped around at that. "I'm sure Potter has any number of zealots willing to accompany him," he said, making an excuse for Draco to turn down his mother's suggestion.

"Father's right. Harry will be as big an attraction as the newly built school. Maybe I will ask Blaise."

If Draco had glanced up, he would have seen the disappointment on Harry's face. Narcissa had practically handed them an excuse on a silver platter to go somewhere together. He understood why Draco turned it down, but he was still disappointed.

hdhdhdhdhd

Harry sipped on a butter beer as he scanned the Great Hall for Draco. Still no sign of him. He had told Harry he would be at the opening of Hogwarts by two o'clock. It was only twenty minutes past, but Harry was worried Draco decided not to come after all.

Several people stopped to talk to Harry, shaking his hand, telling him how brave he was, thanking him. He wasn't much interested in hearing any of it. He only wanted to move forward with his life. A life he very much hoped would include Draco. However, Harry did enjoy talking with some of the professors, including Hagrid, who had been busy making repairs to his own hut the last time Harry saw him.

Midway through their conversation, Harry spotted Draco walking in with Blaise Zabini. Heads turned, looking the pair over. Some were shocked to see them, others angry that they had the nerve to show up, yet many ignored the pair.

Catching Draco's glanced, Harry smiled, but kept his distance as Draco wished. Honouring Draco's wishes was made difficult by the fact that the blond showed up impeccably dressed in his usual formal black attire, looking quite delectable.

One of the other professors approached Harry and Hagrid to inform the _Care of Magical Creatures_ professor that one of the thestrals was ill and required his attention. Since the war, nearly everyone could see them, Harry pondered, on a sad note.

Hagrid's absence was quickly filled by Michael Corner, who greeted Harry with a warm smile and a hand shake that lingered.

"How are you Michael?"

"I'm well. How have you been since I saw you last? That must have been at the beginning of June sometime."

Harry nodded. They both knew very well the last time they saw each other. They had both shown up to help clear away the rubble that Hogwarts had become during the last battle. Overcome with emotion at seeing the devastation, Harry was comforted by Michael in an unused classroom. One thing had led to another and they found themselves repeating their broom closet experience. Harry chalked it up to celebrating the fact that they'd both made it through the war, and had no intention of continuing any sort of relationship with Michael. He had his heart set on Draco by then.

"I'm getting ready to enter the Auror training program," Harry told him. "Ron and I begin at the end of September. How about you?"

"I'll be back here. I've decided to repeat Seventh Year and go for my N.E.W.T.s. I reckon you could have done anything you wanted even without your N.E.W.T.s."

Harry blushed. Michael was probably right, but Harry was humble enough to recognize that he'd had opportunities to be a hero that others hadn't. He took a drink of his butter beer and smiled.

"You're looking fine, by the way," Michael said softly, biting his lip.

"Uh, thank you, You too."

Harry glanced around to find Draco standing with Blaise, speaking to Madame Hooch. He was glaring back at him, his lips pressed so tightly, they were nearly white. Subconsciously, Harry took a step back from Michael.

Not taking the hint, Michael stepped forward. "Maybe we could explore some of the empty classrooms."

"Oh, um . . ."

Michael chuckled. "I know you say you're not interested in one-offs, but, " he sighed, "you look more handsome than ever."

"Thank you," Harry blushed again. "I'm . . . seeing someone, though."

"Oh." Michael's expression dropped from hopeful to disappointed in a flash. "I see."

"No, I really am. Otherwise, I may have taken you up on your offer. Technically, it wouldn't be a one-off, since we've already been together twice," Harry laughed.

Michael's smile was back. "Then I guess I should feel honored." He looked about the room. "So, who is this mysterious boyfriend of yours? Is he here?"

"Boyfriend?" A voice came from behind them. "You have a boy friend? Harry, are you poof?"

Slowly closing his eyes, Harry inwardly groaned. He should have known someone would overhear their conversation. But did it have to be Seamus Finnegan? Gossip would spread like Fiendfyre. This was not the way he wanted to come out.

Sighing, Harry turned around. "Hello, Seamus. And yes, I'm a poof," he said, resigned to accept the ridicule or disgust, whichever Seamus was likely to dole out.

"How come you never said anything?"

Surprised at Seamus' casual attitude, Harry replied, "I didn't think you boys would be comfortable around me if you found out. Not that there was any reason for you to feel uncomfortable. But I had more than enough negative attention as it was."

Seamus nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right." He clapped Harry on the back. "You got a thing with Corner here?"

"What?"

"Well, everybody knows _he__'__s_ a poof."

"I prefer queer," Michael interjected.

Seamus just continued. "I figured if you two were lookin' all cozy, you must be screwin'."

"Seamus! We aren't screwing. I'm not _screwing_ anybody."

By then, anyone who hadn't been privy to their conversation had at least a hint of what it was about.

Michael frowned. "I thought you said you have a boyfriend."

"I do," Harry insisted. "But we're not . . . I mean, we're just sort of . . . it's nobody's business." He was getting flustered by the questions and accusations.

"Oi, what's going on?"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when Ron and Hermione turned up.

"Nothing," Seamus shrugged. "I was only wondering who Harry's boyfriend is. He didn't need to throw a wobbly."

"You told them?" questioned Ron.

"Not exactly. I didn't mean to. Well, Michael already knew," yet again Harry blushed.

"Merlin's beard, it isn't Weasley, is it?" Seamus laughed.

"Of course not, you little fucker," Ron spat. "I'm with Hermione."

Stepping forward, said girlfriend spoke up. "Not that there is anything wrong with Harry having a boyfriend."

"It's really not a big deal," Harry groaned. "Can we just stop talking about this?"

"Harry," Hermione continued, "you shouldn't be ashamed for your sexual preference."

"It's not a _preference_, Hermione. I'm homosexual. You say it as though I have a choice and I'm simply choosing men over women. That's not how it works. This is who I am."

Harry's little spiel was a bit louder than he intended it to be. Those near him quieted to listen, some turning and spreading the news.

"Well, that's just great," he muttered.

Looking guilty, Michael offered an apology. "I'm sorry Harry. I didn't know you were still trying to keep it a secret. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, Michael, it's not your fault. It's nobody's fault. And, you know what? I'm not trying to keep it a secret any more. I'm not ashamed. And you shouldn't be either."

Michael smiled. "I never was. I was never particularly subtle about it either. And, whoever your mystery boyfriend is, he's a lucky guy."

"Thanks." Harry hoped he wasn't bushing again. He was wrong.

Ron shrugged as Corner and Finnegan walked away. "Well, you're out."

Nodding, Harry was filled with uncertainty as he glanced around. He could see some people snickering behind their hands. Others were staring at him, but there had always been people doing that because of his role in the war. A couple of men he'd never seen before looked him up and down, one a bit too hungrily for Harry's taste. He felt another stare and turned to see Draco on the other end.

It was difficult to read the blond's expression. If he had to guess, Harry would have said surprise at his revelation, mixed with a good amount of worry. He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile and turned back to Ron and Hermione.

"I don't mind that people know. I'm relieved actually. But please don't mention who I'm dating to anyone. He's not ready."

They nodded.

"Are you sure he's who you want to be your boyfriend?" Ron asked, unable to keep from wrinkling his nose. "Corner sure seemed interested. A couple of other blokes as well."

"Yeah, I noticed that," Harry chuckled. "It's a bit creepy, actually. Thanks for your concern, but yes, I'm certain. I'm happy. And if you'd just give him a chance, you'd understand."

Ron was about to retort when a small commotion across the room caught his attention.

"Oi, what's going on over there?"

Hermione and Harry both turned to look. Cormac McLaggen and a couple of his mates had Draco and Blaise cornered, while a few others egged them on, Seamus among them.

"I don't care if you weren't charged with anything," McLaggen said angrily. "If it wasn't for you and your Death Eater friends, there wouldn't have had to be a rebuilding of Hogwarts."

"Fuck off McLaggen," Blaise spat. "As if Voldemort really needed Draco's help to wage the war."

"But he made it easier for them."

"You can't really be blaming me for all the trouble Voldemort caused," Draco sneered. "He was killing people and practicing Dark Arts before I was even born. You may as well blame Dumbledore for not stopping him when he was a kid."

"Don't you dare talk about Dumbledore that way," another former Hogwarts student shouted.

"All he means is that if Dumbledore couldn't stop him, how was he supposed to?" Blaise clarified.

"But at least Dumbledore fought against him," McLaggen pointed out. "You and your Death Eater friends helped him."

Draco stood, eyes cast downward. There wasn't much he could say in his own defense. He couldn't see Harry standing near enough to hear the conversation with his fists clenched tightly at his side.

Harry made a move toward the arguing group, but Ron held him back.

"Don't get involved Harry," he warned. "You don't want them to turn on you."

"Turn on _me_? I fucking saved their world!"

"But if you go defending Malfoy, people will get suspicious."

"I can't just stand by and let them vilify Draco in public like that. They don't know what he's been through. They have no idea how awful it was for him."

"Then he can tell them," Ron said. "And if he chooses not to defend himself, then that's his decision."

"Ron, they're ganging up on him. Some of them are our friends. I only want to diffuse the situation. I promise."

Ron released his arm. Harry was a big boy. He could take care of himself. In case things turned ugly, however, Ron went with him.

"What's going on here?" Harry tried to ask casually. "This is supposed to be a celebration."

Cormac nodded. "Yeah, but these two don't belong here. Nor any other followers of . . . he who must not–

"Voldemort," Harry interrupted. "There's no longer any power in the name. And, Draco helped rebuild this place. He and his father came many times."

"So," Cormac sneered. "Like I said, if it weren't for Dark wizards like him, Hogwarts wouldn't have needed rebuilding."

"It was war," Harry frowned. "Dark times for everyone. You have no idea the power Voldemort held over others. He was very powerful, and ruthless. He kept people in line and got them to do his bidding through fear. And they were right to be afraid of him."

"Still, they didn't have to get involved in the first place."

"Many of them didn't have a choice."

Draco gathered up he nerve to speak. "You don't have to defend me Potter."

At first, Harry stood open-mouthed. Draco sounded much too similar to the way he used to speak to Harry. Figuring out that Draco was only keeping up appearances, Harry played along.

"I'm only saying that a lot of people did things they had to in order to survive the war."

"Bunch of cowards if you ask me," Seamus said.

"Yeah," echoed a few others.

"Well, nobody asked you," Draco smirked.

Blaise took hold of Draco's elbow. "Maybe we ought to just go."

"Yeah, cowards, go."

Others had gathered closer to see what the commotion was. Cormac, Seamus and some others continued to try and drive Blaise and Draco away, while one or two additional former Slytherin members joined. It soon became a rather large argument between sides. Harry, as usual, attempted to smooth things over.

"Please," he begged, "this is a celebration. Hogwarts has returned to its former glory, better even. And we have all assembled here to mark the occasion."

Ron gave him a nudge. "It isn't your job to keep the peace. Let McGonagall do that." He looked around. "Where is she, anyway?"

"I think she went to show some of the parents the new expanded Potions wing," someone answered.

"I can handle it, Ron," Harry said, determined to keep the situation from accelerating. "Please, everyone, let's all have a little patience. We need to heal, as a community. And everyone needs to be included. It's the way Dumbledore would have wanted it. And I know for a _fact_ he didn't blame Draco for his role in the war."

For a moment, the tension in the room hung. Then slowly, those on the periphery began to fall away and explore other parts of the castle, or moved to the large buffet set out. The audience that remained looked on.

"He's not worth it," Seamus told Cormac. "Someday, he'll get what's coming to him."

"Hopefully, it will involve a hot poker up his poncy arse."

Harry looked from Cormac to Draco. There was an expression of surprise on his boyfriend's face, but Harry thought Cormac was only trying to make a derogatory remark toward him, not out him. Before Harry could say anything, Seamus nudged Cormac.

"Watch what you say," he whispered.

"Why? Is Malfoy _actually_ a ponce?" McLaggen laughed.

"No," Seamus tried to keep his voice low. "I don't know. But don't say shite like that around Harry."

"If Potter doesn't like it, he can leave."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not going anywhere. I think _you_ should leave if you only want to cause trouble."

Again, Blaise tried to steer Draco away. "Come on. This isn't worth the aggravation."

"That's right, turn and run. Fucking fairies." McLaggen elbowed Seamus, who glanced sheepishly at Harry. "I bet they're the ones that used to fuck in the broom closet."

Harry clenched his fist. His jaw tightened. Blaise rolled his eyes, but Draco blushed wildly, encouraging Cormac to continue his jibes.

"Must be Malfoy that bends over for the other one. You know what they say about dark men," he laughed, holding his belly. Several others laughed at Blaise and Draco's expense. Comments ranged from prejudice against queers to outright hatred for Draco's entire family. There were even a few threats.

Ron whispered, "Harry, don't do anything stupid."

But Harry couldn't help himself. Any other wizard would probably have taken out his wand and given McLaggen a nasty curse. Or tried to, anyway. Ron would have anticipated it and disarmed Harry before he could do any real harm. Unfortunately for Cormac, Harry was raised a muggle.

In a flash, Harry struck the other man with a closed fist to the jaw. The unexpected jolt knocked him to the floor. Only then was Ron able to restrain Harry. But he couldn't stop him from yelling at McLaggen.

"You shut the fuck up about Draco or I'll kick your fucking teeth in!" Harry struggled in Ron's grip. "Let go, Ron. He deserves it."

Draco stood, mouth agape. Part of him was soaring at the way Harry defended him. The other part was mortified, knowing that in short order, everyone would put the pieces together and figure out why Harry was defending him so vehemently.

The crowd that had previously thinned was back in full force, craning to see what had happened between Harry and McLaggen.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?"

Harry couldn't see the headmistress, but her voice was unmistakable. She made her way through the crowd.

"He punched me," Cormac pointed up at Harry.

"Harry," McGonagall began to admonish.

"He deserved it."

Rubbing his jaw, Cormac got up. "All I did was tell these Death Eaters to leave," he said, trying his best to sound innocent.

"That's not all you said. And they're _not_ Death Eaters."

"Why do you even give a shit?" Cormac questioned. "Malfoy's not even defending himself. Why should _you_?"

"Because he's my–

Ron gave Harry a jab.

Cormac narrowed his eyes. "He's your what?" His eyes widened and he gasped. "Merlin's ghost! Zabini's not the one Malfoy's bending over for. It's _you_."

"Hey, now," Seamus turned on Cormac. "I don't care what you say about Malfoy, but don't go disparaging Harry. He's a bender for sure, but he'd never have anything to do with the likes of that." He pointed to Draco.

Trying his best to keep his chin up, Draco desperately wished he had let Blaise take him away before Harry went and did something stupid. Now it was too late. There was no good way for this scenario to end. Either Harry would deny him, or he would admit to their relationship. Draco wasn't sure which one would hurt more.

Ron stepped up, attempting to diffuse the situation and draw attention away from McLaggen's accusation. McGonagall tried to make excuses for Harry's behavior as well. She cited the stress of fighting Voldemort for the past seven years, and suggested that Cormac give him a break. Somehow, she managed to make it sound as though he owed Harry an apology.

In all this, Harry's only concern was Draco.

"Are you all right?"

"People have been saying shit about me for years," Draco said. "This isn't any different." He paused. "Except that usually nobody defends me."

Harry reached for his hand. When Draco pulled away, Harry whispered, "Trust me."

Blushing, Draco allowed Harry to pull him back into the center of what was now an argument between Ron and Cormac.

"What the fuck?" Seamus cried.

"See," Cormac pointed. "I was right."

"Shut up, McLaggen. Harry, what are you doing?" asked Ron.

"What I have every right to do," Harry answered. He turned to Minerva. "I'm sorry for the disturbance I've caused today. I never wanted this to be about me. This is a celebration for everyone. So, Draco and I are going to leave. But I'm not apologizing to McLaggen. And I'm _not_ apologizing for this." He held up his and Draco's clasped hands.

The pair turned and began to walk out of the Great Hall, leaving many a jaw gaping. As soon as they were clear of the enchantments surrounding the castle, Harry disapparated them away.


	18. damage control

***Thanks to xxxLeanniexxx, pashathepeddler, cassy1994, Michael Hunter, Aristania, sjrodgers23, SlytherinLegacie 338, LuciusDivius (for making me laugh), tay, and blowkissesnotboys (why not?) for reading and reviewing the last chapter. I've tried to make up for the long wait between chapters by making it extra long. **

**Last we saw them, Harry and Draco were leaving Hogwarts together, hand in hand . . .**

* * *

Upon arriving in his bedroom, Harry took Draco into his arms.

"I'm sorry. I didn't anticipate people being so . . . cruel to you. I thought because you helped with the rebuilding, they would be more forgiving."

"It's not your fault," Draco sniffed. "But, Harry, you just outed yourself to everyone. And me." He bit his lip.

Harry sighed heavily. "I'm so sorry. McClaggen made me so angry–

Draco pulled back. "It's all right. I'm not . . . that upset. You defended me, again. You have no idea what that means to me, standing up to your friends for me."

"Cormac was never my friend. And Seamus, well, he didn't really flinch when he found out I'm queer. I'm hoping he and everyone else there will come around."

"But Harry, remember that you only told what my mother did at the trial. All anyone knows about me is that I wasn't charged because I wasn't eighteen yet. They all think I got off free and clear."

"Then I want to tell everyone."

"Let it go, Harry. It doesn't matter."

"It does to me," Harry said. "What hurts you, hurts me. And makes me want to hurt them back."

"I don't know if I'm worth fighting a battle for. You'll have to work with a lot of those people at the Ministry."

"All the more reason to set them straight sooner rather than later. I'm going back to give them a piece of my mind."

"No, please," Draco begged. "Don't leave me."

Harry relaxed his tense stance. The crowd at Hogwarts had him so worked up, his fists were clenched still. He took a deep breath.

"I will never leave you." Harry clutched Draco to him.

"You can't promise that," Draco said. "You're going into the Auror program."

"I guess I meant that more figuratively. Unless . . ."

"Unless what?"

"I don't."

Draco pushed back. "Don't what? Don't go into the training program?" He shook his head. "No, I won't let you give that up for me."

"I would."

"Don't say that. You've already put yourself out enough for me. Oh, this is all just a big mess. And I haven't even told my parents yet. They're going to find out through the newspaper."

"Not if we go and tell them ourselves," Harry suggested.

"We? You'd go with me?"

"Of course. I was ready to tell the world how I feel about you after that first kiss in your garden."

Draco licked his lips nervously. "And . . . how _do_ you feel . . . about me?"

Harry's belly did a flip. He knew how he felt. But the uncertainty of Draco's feelings made him anxious. He took up one of Draco's hands.

"Well, I . . . " he gazed into Draco's eyes, then looked away.

"I shouldn't have asked that," Draco coughed. "Obviously, you care for me."

Harry nodded.

"I suppose I should go back to the Manor and tell my parents what's happened."

"Let's go," offered Harry.

"Are you certain? I have no idea how my father will react," Draco warned.

"Let's find out. No matter what, though, I'm not leaving you."

hdhdhdhdhd

"Draco, back so soon from the grand opening?" Narcissa asked when she heard footsteps into the sitting room. "Harry, what a lovely surprise." Her expression immediately grew solemn. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" Draco questioned.

"Now, darling, I can tell from the look on your face that you're upset. I've known that look for eighteen years."

"Is Father around? I would like to talk to both of you." Draco glanced at Harry. "_We_ would like to talk to both of you," he corrected.

"Of course. I'll go fetch him."

"I don't know if I can do this," Draco said to Harry the moment his mother was out of earshot.

"Would you like me to tell them?"

"I can't be that much of a coward." Draco sighed. "Just . . . stay by my side."

"I told you before, I'm never leaving you."

Draco smiled. Somehow, Harry made it seem like anything was possible.

Narcissa and Lucius walked into the sitting room, taking their usual seats. She gestured for them to sit on the small sofa.

"I'd rather stand," Draco said.

"What's this all about, son? And does Potter have to be here?" Lucius rolled his eyes.

"I have something to tell you." He paused. Looking into his father's cold grey eyes made it so much more difficult than he thought.

"What is it dear? Did something happen at Hogwarts?" His mother drew his attention. He decided to concentrate on her.

"Well, nothing unexpected," he said. "There were people that didn't appreciated the fact that I was there. Harry stood up for me, as well as Blaise. But it was clear I was not welcome."

"Fuck 'em, Draco," Lucius spat. "You don't need that school any longer, or the peons in it."

Draco rolled _his_ eyes. His father would never understand that he didn't want to be part of the elite. He wanted to fit in. However, he appreciated his father's sentiments.

"That may not be entirely true," Draco began. "But that isn't what I wanted to talk about." He swallowed and took a deep breath. "Something else happened, that might be in the papers. I wanted to tell you myself before you read about it."

"Would you like some tea?' Narcissa asked.

"No, I don't want any bloody tea. I just want to say this and be done."

A little taken aback, yet unflinching, Narcissa put her hands in her lap and waited patiently for Draco to continue.

"So, um . . ." Draco looked to Harry. He should have practiced what to say like Harry suggested. But if he thought about it too long, he was afraid he'd lose his nerve. "I'm not . . . uh, I mean, I _am_ . . ."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, spit it out, Draco," Lucius admonished.

Draco pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, and gave his father what he wanted.

"I'm queer. And I'm . . . dating Harry." His knees began to buckle, but Harry's hand steadied him.

Harry very nearly laughed at the expression on Lucius' face. He would have, if Draco hadn't looked like he might be sick. The look on Narcissa's face, however, was one of amusement.

Lucius blinked and stammered. Clearly, it was the last thing he expected Draco to say.

"That's ridiculous," he finally managed to get out. "No son of _mine_ is–

"Yes, I am."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. "Is this true Harry?"

He nodded, keeping quiet for fear of saying the wrong thing.

The four of them looked back and forth to one another. Eventually, someone broke the silence.

"You told me you weren't encouraging them to be friends, Narcissa. _Now_ look what's happened," Lucius frowned.

"Yes, I see," she smirked. "And I wasn't encouraging them to be _friends.__"_

Lucius grunted at Narcissa's not so subtle implication.

Harry couldn't help but giggle at that, which earned him a glare from the elder Malfoy.

"Mother, did you know?"

"That you are gay? Or that you've had a crush on Harry for years?"

Draco blushed brightly.

"What I didn't know, was that the feeling was mutual. Until Harry's visit, that is. The two of you aren't very subtle I'm afraid."

Harry and Draco looked at each other. Were they really that obvious? The server at that French restaurant certainly knew. But it _was_ a date.

"It doesn't matter," Lucius said. "I won't allow this."

"Lucius."

"No." He stood. "I have lost my position, my status, my freedom. All I have left is the redemption of my family name by my son."

"That is not all you have left, dear," Narcissa said, somewhat sadly.

"No, you're right. Narcissa, I am very grateful to have you by my side. But Draco must make an alliance with a pureblood family, with connections and reputation. Not a . . . half-blood orphan."

Draco blinked. "Wait, your only objection is his blood status?"

"And his lack of family standing. He has no family at all."

"Then, you don't care that I'm dating another man?"

Lucius shrugged. "Not my first choice. He can't help you produce a pureblood heir."

Draco's mouth hung open. Of all the objections he knew his father would have, he thought Harry being a boy would be right at the top.

"My father was a pureblood," Harry offered.

"But your mother a mud– muggle born," Lucius adjusted his statement for political correctness.

"Yes." Harry could offer nothing more.

"So what?" Draco cried. "He's . . . he's Harry Potter. He saved our whole fucking family. You could be in Azkaban right now. Mother could be. _I_ could be the orphan right now."

Narcissa calmly stood. "I think we should all just take a breath. Poppy," she called. When the house elf appeared, she asked for tea and fresh biscuits. "Why don't the two of you have a seat," Narcissa gestured to Harry and Draco.

As they sat down, Draco reached for Harry's hand. "I'm sorry for the things my father said about you."

"He's only stating the truth. I am an orphan, with no living family, or status."

"Except being the Saviour of the whole bloody wizarding world."

Harry chuckled. "But I can't help you produce a pureblood child."

"Merlin Harry, we've been dating less than three weeks. We can't be talking about having children. You sound like my father."

"We both want what's best for you."

"Why can't _I_ decide what's best for me?"

"And what do _you_ think is best for you?" Lucius called from his seat.

Draco looked from Harry, to Narcissa, then to Lucius.

"Right now? Harry is what's best for me. What's best for me is to lighten up and have fun for a change. To try and forget about all the shit that happened in the past and be hopeful for the future. Someday, I'll worry about making a living, and carrying on the Malfoy name. But right now, I'm eighteen. Haven't I carried the burden of family obligations and responsibilities long enough? Haven't I been expected to clean up _your_ fuck ups long enough." By the time Draco finished, he was yelling, his fists clenched and face reddened. Harry's hand on his arm caught his attention.

"Please, calm down Draco," Harry said gently.

"I will not be spoken to in this manner," Lucius growled.

Poppy entered the room with a tray of tea and biscuits. While she poured out, Draco leaned heavily on Harry's shoulder, being pulled into a hug. The small house elf took two of the cups to Harry and Draco. The pair parted and accepted the teacups, and Draco visibly relaxed after a few sips.

Narcissa sipped her own tea, then placed it on the table.

"Those are excellent questions, darling," she said. "Wouldn't you agree, Lucius?"

Mr. Malfoy sat with lips pursed. Harry suspected that, though he was upset by Draco's words, he couldn't really refute them.

"Can we at least agree that Draco has not had the luxury of being a child in a very long time? He was barely sixteen when he was indoctrinated into the Death Eaters. Don't you think he deserves to enjoy his life for a while before he has to bear any more burdens?"

"And Harry," Draco spoke up. "He's had it worse than me. He's been fighting Voldemort since he was eleven. And he didn't even know he was a wizard before that."

His parents both visibly shivered at the mention of the Dark Lord.

"Potter is not my concern," Lucius scowled.

"Well, he's _my_ concern." Draco reached out and took Harry's hand, giving his father a defiant glare.

Lucius knew he was outnumbered. It was a conspiracy, apparently headed by Narcissa. "As long as you produce an heir with a pureblood woman someday."

"I'll make no such promise," said Draco. "I have no idea what my situation will be when, or _if_, I'm ever ready to have children."

Lucius let out an exasperated breath. "I am still the head of this family. Don't I get a say in its future?"

"Like it or not dear, Draco is an adult."

"Can't you just be happy for me?" Draco pouted.

"How can I be happy about you attaching yourself to a poor orphan. No offense," Malfoy nodded to Harry. "Your actions during the war have been commendable. But a career as an Auror is hardly a lucrative endeavor. My son is used to a certain lifestyle." He glanced away, ashamed. "A lifestyle that our family money may not be able to sustain for very long."

A smile grew on Narcissa's face. "I knew your concern was only for Draco's well being."

"I'm prepared to . . . get a job, if I have to," Draco said.

"He won't have to," Harry spoke up. "I'll have a job."

"Living on an Auror's salary?" Lucius scoffed.

"I have plenty of money at Gringott's. I want to become an Auror so I can help rid the wizarding world of those hell bent on destroying it."

Draco sat with his mouth agape as his father and Harry argued over Draco's future. Harry had basically offered to take care of Draco. And Lucius was actually engaging in the conversation. Draco had listened to enough.

"Stop. Both of you." He stood. "Father, I'm tired of you trying to control my life. I'm an adult and I'll make my own decisions." He turned to Harry. "Same goes for you."

Harry was taken aback by Draco's reaction. "But–

"You're both talking about my future as though I don't have a say."

Draco stormed out of the room, leaving Harry alone with his parents. It was uncomfortable to say the least.

"Hmm, that didn't go very well," Narcissa commented, bringing her cup to her lips.

"He's always been a difficult child," Lucius mumbled.

"He's not a child anymore," she smiled. "It's time he made his own decisions."

Harry bit his lip. "Perhaps I'd better go apologize. I was treating him like a child too."

Narcissa nodded.

Now that Draco's parents knew the nature of their relationship, Harry was even more self-conscious as he walked up the stairs to Draco's room. He knocked several times before Draco answered.

"Come in."

Slowly, Harry peeked in, finding Draco lying on his bed clutching a pillow to his chest. "Is it all right if I come in?"

Draco shrugged. "I guess. My parents know about us so there's no reason to sneak anymore."

"No, I meant, do you _want_ me to come in? Or should I go home? I've been sort of ruining your life lately."

Sitting up, Draco shook his head. "You haven't ruined my life. You've made it so much better."

"But I forced you to come out. And now you've fought with your father."

Draco chuckled. "My father and I argue all the time. That's nothing new. And . . . in a way, I'm glad you told everyone about us. I was too lily-livered to do it myself."

"And how are you feeling about that now?" Harry asked, taking a seat on the bed next to Draco.

A slow smile grew on Draco's lips. "Relieved. Surprisingly calm. And . . . a bit nervous, but excited."

Harry smiled in response. "Me too."

"I hope you haven't sacrificed too much to be with me."

"I haven't sacrificed anything, Draco. My friends, my true friends, are still beside me. And I'm happier than I've ever been."

"Do you think you've jeopardized your admittance to Auror training?"

Harry's brow furrowed. "I don't know. I don't think Shacklebolt will hold it against me. He's been a supporter of mine since before Dumbledore died. But, if he does, or the Ministry overrules him, I'll be just as happy to spend all of my time with you."

"There won't be any more fancy dates if neither one of us is working," Draco pointed out.

Cocking his head to the side, Harry replied, "I wasn't lying to your father. I have plenty of money. Not as much as your family, I suspect, but enough to live on, if I invest properly. I really only want to become an Auror to keep the world I risked everything to save, safe. Including you."

Draco shook his head, laughing. "You truly are the most selfless person I've eve met." He leaned forward for a kiss, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Draco, would you come downstairs please?" Narcissa's voice was muffled through the door. "Harry, as well."

Draco took in a deep breath. "May as well face the fire."

"Together," Harry said, taking Draco's hand and helping him off the bed.

The pair slowly descended the stair, bracing for whatever came next. In the sitting room, Lucius frowned, then glanced at his wife.

"Your father has something he wants to say," she announced.

It was excruciating to stand before the elder Malfoy waiting for him to finally speak. Draco was nearly out of patience when Lucius cleared his throat.

"Fine." He closed his eyes.

"Fine, what?" Draco questioned.

"Fine . . . you can date Potter."

Draco's mouth opened, about to protest the need for permission in the first place.

"Thank you," Harry said, in his stead.

"What changed your mind?" Draco asked. "Did Mother force you into it?"

"While your mother has been very persuasive, she cannot force me to do anything," Lucius told him. "Much in the way that I cannot force you to do anything any longer. We have both learned, the hard way, that forcing you to my will only brings . . . misfortune."

Draco thought that was a gross understatement, but he accepted his father's words as heartfelt apology. As much as Lucius was capable, anyway. He looked to his mother.

"It is true. Your father came to this conclusion on his own. I, of course, have encouraged this union from the beginning," she said proudly.

"But, why?" asked Draco.

"Because I want you to be happy."

"Well," Draco couldn't help smiling. "Thank you. Thank you both." He grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him out of the room and up the stairs.

"Draco, what's all the fuss?"

"What's all the fuss?" Draco repeated incredulously. "We got their blessing."

"And? What does that mean?"

Draco closed the bedroom door behind them. "It means . . . well, it means that we can do as we please."

"Couldn't we do that before?" questioned Harry.

"Not publicly. Now we can appear in public together, as a couple, without hiding. We can attend pureblood functions and no one will question your right to be there. Oh, I know it all must sound silly to you, but if Father continued to protest, I could have possibly been shut out of pureblood society."

"I thought you didn't care about that."

"Only for networking purposes. You never know when you'll need a favor from someone of importance. Rebelling against your parents amongst pureblood is actually quite an offense."

"Is that why you were so reluctant to tell them?"

Draco nodded. "It wouldn't have looked good for them, either, if I had defied them. But now, we're united. In this matter at least. Oh, Harry, you have no idea how relieved I am."

Laughing along with Draco's joy, Harry replied, "I have some idea. I suppose I feel the same way about Ron and Hermione accepting our relationship."

"Well, this is a _little_ bit different," Draco hesitated. "But I know what you mean."

Harry blinked for a few moments trying to work out what Draco meant by that. Then he shrugged and smiled. "Then I'd say we have some celebrating to do."

Draco again leaned forward for a kiss.

Instead, Harry leaned back out of the way, "We should go out."

"What?"

"You know, an official date. To a wizarding restaurant, not a muggle one."

"Oh, I thought . . ." Draco blushed slightly.

"What did you think?"

Looking down at his fidgety fingers, Draco answered, "I thought you'd want to celebrate more privately."

"I do. I definitely do. But I'm getting kind of peckish, and I don't want anyone to think we're hiding if word has gotten out about us."

"If? Harry, you know somebody will have spread the news beyond the Hogwarts opening."

"Then it's time for us to make our debut." Harry paused. "Would it be all right if I called for reinforcements though, just in case?"

"Reinforcements?"

"Ron and Hermione. And even Blaise if you'd like."

Draco pursed his lips. "Blaise too? Are you certain?"

"Yes. If we're going to do things properly, you need your friends' support as well."

"All right." Draco was admittedly more than a bit disappointed that they weren't going to consummate their newly sanctioned relationship. On the other hand, he didn't necessarily feel physically prepared for that step.

He and Harry owled their respective friends to meet them at The Three Broomsticks for supper at half five. Both parties responded positively within fifteen minutes.

hdhdhdhdhd

Seated in the restaurant in a corner booth, Harry and Draco sat between Blaise and Harry's friends. They silently sipped on butter beer while waiting for their food to arrive. Harry and Draco kept looking at each other, trying to stifle giggles.

"Enough making eyes at each other," Blaise finally said.

Ron raised his glass. "Here, here."

"See?" Harry smiled. "You already have something in common."

Ever the practical one, Hermione decided to try for some actual conversation. "So, um, Blaise, what are your plans for the coming year? Are you going back to Hogwarts?"

He shook his head. "Nah, my current stepfather owns an apothecary in Portugal. I'll probably go and work for him."

"Your _current_ step father?" she questioned. "Have you had many?"

"Oh, yeah. Mum's been married half a dozen times. I've got loads of half brothers and sisters."

"Oh." Hermione didn't quite know how to respond to that.

Nodding a head towards Ron, Blaise asked, "You're going into the Auror program, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Me and Harry both."

"Guess it pays to be the Chosen One's best friend."

"Pays to be on the right side," Ron smirked.

To diffuse the situation, Draco changed the subject. "How is Daphne?"

"Not together anymore," Blaise replied. "I've seen a couple of girls since her. I'm in the market, as it were." He nudged Draco. "That's a fine one over there."

"You always did have a taste for the finer things," Draco chuckled.

Harry laughed to himself.

"What's so funny Potter?"

"Oh, nothing." Harry picked up his butter beer and took a large swig.

"I've got a decent sense of humor," Blaise said. "Why don't you share? Don't you like my taste in women? Oops, I guess not," he snickered.

"At least I never shagged Millicent Bulstrode."

Ron gasped as Blaise choked and spit his butter beer in his direction. Hermione quickly took out her wand and performed a _Scourgify _on the red head. Blaise slammed his drink down, glaring at Draco.

"You said you'd never tell. You promised."

"What?" Draco frowned. "Oh, don't tell me _you_ shagged her."

"As if you didn't bloody know. And you had to tell Potter?"

"No, I swear," protested Draco. "I didn't even know. Or, I don't remember."

Trying to cover his gaff, Harry jumped in. "Was it after our fight? Maybe Draco forgot because of his head injury."

"But he remembered to tell you." Blaise put up a hand for the bar maid to bring him another butter beer. Their food orders quickly followed.

"Well, there are worse things, aren't there?" Hermione suggested. "I mean, everyone probably has a lack of judgement here or there. Or they forget themselves."

"I suppose," Blaise grumbled.

Hermione chuckled, "In fact, Harry did that twice in one day."

Everyone turned to Hermione. She couldn't just say something like that and not elaborate.

"It was at our picnic, Sixth Year. Remember Harry, when you accidentally told me you didn't like girls. You tried to cover it up by professing to only like Ginny. But I could see through it."

"You said he did that twice in one day. What was the other thing?" asked Blaise.

"Well, for all his protesting, he couldn't help ogling Michael Corner as he was coming out of the castle. Of course, Harry tried again to deny it. But the look on his face told the truth." She turned to Harry. "I wouldn't be surprised to hear that you and Michael had some sort of liaison in school, judging by the way he looked back."

Blaise smiled, feeling a little bit better at hearing Hermione's story about Harry. It took the heat off him, for certain.

Harry turned to Draco. "Ogling Michael Corner? Is that right?"

"Harry, uh."

"Did you fancy him? Did you meet up with him in the broom closet?"

"Harry," Draco laughed nervously. "Now, let's not get angry over things that happened long before we got together. You're the one who was looking awfully cozy with Corner at the Hogwarts reopening. And after all, you practically _shagged_ Harper. All I did was look."

"What the bloody hell are you two going on about?" Blaise interrupted. "Potter dated Harper too? When?"

Looking at each other, Harry and Draco knew they would have a difficult time talking their way out of this one. Hermione scrutinized them with narrowed eyes.

Ron was just joining the party. "Harry, Mione just said it was you ogling Corner. Why are getting mad at Malfoy?" He scratched his head.

"I think we have to tell them," Harry said to Draco.

"Tell us what?" Blaise questioned, as he, Ron and Hermione all leaned forward.

Draco sighed heavily. "Well, when you come out, you really come out."

Laughing, Harry took that as permission and began to tell their tale. The three other sat, mouths gaping through it all, punctuated every so often with a light bulb moment, so to speak. At the end of his story, Harry sat back and waited for the barrage of questions.

Hermione, of course, was the first to speak. "So . . . when you denied confessing to not liking girls at the picnic, that was really you?"

"Yes. I had no idea what Draco said to you. I really wasn't trying to be difficult."

"You were in Slytherin all that time?" Blaise asked, then stroked his chin. "Actually, that sort of makes sense. We all thought Draco must have hit his head really hard, acting all nice." Blaise laughed. "Potter even donated a pint of your fire whiskey to a party."

"Is that where that went?" Draco frowned.

Hermione and Blaise took turns asking about events they recalled and whether or not Harry were themselves or each other. Sometimes it was difficult for even Harry and Draco to keep straight. Ron stayed uncharacteristically quiet through most of it, appearing to be quite pensive. During a lull, he let out a small chuckle.

"What?" Harry asked.

A smile grew on Ron's face. "_You_ didn't beat me at chess."

"That's all you have to say?" Hermione was incredulous.

"That's a pretty big deal, Hermione. My pride was on the line."

"But you don't mind being beaten by Malfoy?" she questioned.

Ron hesitated. "No offense Harry, but being beaten by him isn't as bad as being beaten by you."

"None taken, Ron. Is that all you have to say?"

"Well, I don't like it one bit that I might have said things to Malfoy, thinking he was you. But I suppose if I can't recall what they were, then maybe neither can he. I guess I can understand why you didn't want anyone to know. It could have been dangerous for you if Voldemort found out."

"That's right, Ron," Hermione said. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Professor Snape was the only person we told," said Draco. "Although, we each thought he was on our side."

"Did you ever tell Harper he was really shagging Harry Potter?" Blaise laughed.

"No. And I _didn__'__t_ shag him," Harry protested.

"But you did meet up with Corner in the broom closet," Blaise chuckled.

"I . . ." Harry looked to Draco, who appeared a bit dejected. "I did, but it was before us. And we were only talking today. I swear."

"Well," Blaise took a drink of his butter beer, "you certainly have gotten around Potter. Did you shag the Weasley girl as well?"

Ron slapped his hand on the table. "No, he didn't shag my sister." He paused. "Did you?"

"Oh, right," Blaise said, sheepishly. "I forgot that's your sister."

"No, Ron, I didn't," Harry assured him. "Why is everyone so interested in _my_ sex life?"

"Probably because they don't want to talk about theirs," Draco pointed out.

Ron and Hermione both blushed, looking in all directions but toward the other three.

"Anyway," said Harry, attempting to break the tension, "now you know what really happened Sixth Year. But you can't tell anyone."

Blaise snickered, "Who'd believe us anyway?"

"Hmm. Some things do make more sense now," admitted Hermione.

"Like Harry beating me at chess," Ron grinned.

"No, I mean . . . for example, when we were in the Room of Requirement. You insisted we save Malfoy and Goyle. And I thought it was my imagination that you asked him to come with us."

"I did. Several times."

"Harry tried to save my soul more times than I can count. I very nearly left the Manor with you after Aunt Bellatrix . . ." Draco looked Hermione in the eye. "I'm sorry for what she did to you."

Taken aback by his words, Hermione simply nodded. It was a subject she wasn't inclined to discuss with anyone but Ron. But she appreciated the apology.

"That wasn't your fault," Harry placed a gentle hand on Draco's arm.

"But I'm still sorry. I'm sorry for so many things."

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn't certain which things, exactly, Malfoy was sorry for. And he was afraid he may have to reciprocate the sentiment. Honestly though, Ron couldn't bring himself to be sorry for most of the things he'd said and done to Malfoy. The prat deserved them at the time. Thankfully, no one, not even Harry, urged anyone else to apologize.

The barmaid came by to ask if there was anything else they needed. They declined, save for the bill. Harry and Draco's first public night out was nearing the end, and without incident.

It was too good to be true.

"Oh, fuck," grumbled Ron. "Someone must have told her you were here."

"Who?"

The rest of the companions turned in unison to find Rita Skeeter approaching their table.

"How about a photo, boys?" she smiled. "Oh, and Miss Granger, of course."

Before any of them could answer, the photographer with her took three quick shots. Ron took out his wand and stood.

"Leave them alone."

"Ooh, practicing to be an Auror already?" she laughed. "The public has a right to know. The rumors are rampant as it is. Wouldn't you like to set the record straight? No pun intended."

Blaise stood as well, wand drawn. He wasn't about to let Weasley stand up for him.

"Ron, Blaise, it's all right. Draco and I knew this was coming sooner or later," Harry said, motioning for them to sit. "Well, Skeeter?"

"Are you going to grant me an interview?"

"I'll give you three questions. That's it. And then you leave us alone. _All_ of us."

"Oh, but Harry, there are so many questions the public has."

"And I'm about to lower it to two."

Rita waved a hand dismissively. "Fine. Three questions. _Any_ three questions?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. He figured she'd go for the obvious– their hostile past, their current sex life, and the like. But he wondered if she had something up her sleeve.

"If I say yes, do you promise to leave us alone? No spying, no asking for more interviews, no badgering our friends?"

She thought for a moment. "Deal. But if one of my questions goes unanswered, the deal is off." Holding out her hand to seal the deal, Harry shook it.

Instead of asking Harry or Draco a question, she turned to Ron. "What do you think of your best friend cavorting with the enemy?"

Harry protested, "You're supposed to be asking me questions."

"Then you should have specified. You said _any_ three questions." Skeeter stood with her quill at the ready.

Ron grunted. "I'll answer Harry, if it'll get her off our backs." He looked up at the reporter. "How do I feel? I'm happy for Harry. If he's happy, I'm happy." He smirked, feeling that he got around that pretty well.

"So, you still consider Mr. Malfoy an enemy."

"I didn't say that."

"But you didn't deny it. Your generic answer and body language suggest you are uncomfortable with the situation."

Ron frowned. "You can't write that. I didn't say that."

"I'm a reporter. I write what I see and hear."

"Let it go, Ron," Harry said. "Move on to the next question, Skeeter."

"Very well. Did your feelings for the young Master Draco have any influence–" she put a hand to her chin, trying to phrase the question just right. Clearing her throat, she asked again. "Did your feelings for Draco Malfoy influence or perhaps cause you to embellish your testimony on his parents' behalf?"

"What? No, of course not," Harry answered. However, he knew that her question alone would raise doubts in the minds of her readers. "In fact, just the opposite. I never had a chance to testify as to Draco's role in helping me. He tried to keep Vincent Crabbe from killing me."

"Because the Dark Lord wanted you for himself," Skeeter interrupted.

Ignoring that, Harry continued. "And he refused to identify me when I was captured by the snatchers. And, he led me to one of the horcruxes. _And_–

"I get the picture," she groaned. That question didn't go quite as planned, so her next one had to be good.

"Last one," Harry announced, as if she didn't know. He was prepared for her to ask about their personal relationship. He was willing to share. He wanted everyone to know. Hoping Draco wouldn't mind, Harry braced himself for her query.

"Where is the Elder Wand now?"

"I can't tell you that," Harry said without thinking.

"Then you've broken our bargain."

"Wait, that's not fair. The Ministry has sworn me to secrecy regarding any information about the supposed Elder Wand."

"Supposed? Harry, if that wand,the most powerful wand in the world, didn't exist, you would have told me that immediately. Your refusal to answer only confirms its existence. My readers will be anxious to find out more."

"You can't print that. Ask another question."

"We made a deal, Harry, remember? If you didn't answer one of my questions, the bargain is null and void. Believe me, I _will_ be asking more questions."

Before Harry could respond, she flitted away with her photographer.

"Well, that was a disaster," Ron understated. "No one's supposed to know about the Elder Wand."

"No shit, Ron. Shacklebolt is going to kill me."

Looking on the bright side, Ron said, "At least she didn't find out about the Resurrection Stone or your cape." He immediately clapped his hand over his mouth.

"Ron," Hermione chastised.

"Cape? You mean the Cloak of Invisibility?" Blaise gaped. "It's real? The Deathly Hallows are _real_?"

"Shh." Harry nodded. "At one point, I had all three. Well, I didn't have the wand in my actual possession until the end."

"Bullshit," scoffed Blaise.

"It's true," Hermione corroborated. "Dumbledore had the wand and the stone, which he had hidden in the snitch he left Harry in his will."

Harry held out his hands. "What's wrong with you two? Have you forgotten how to keep a secret?"

"Oh, uh, well . . . I just assumed you weren't keeping secrets from Malfoy. I suppose we shouldn't have said anything in front of Zabini," she blushed.

Harry looked to Draco. "No, I'm not keeping secrets. I'm not intending to, at any rate. And we've already told all about our switch Sixth Year, so . . ."

"Blaise won't tell. Right Blaise?" Draco prompted.

"Like I said, who'd believe me?"

"And you don't have the wand or the stone anymore," Ron chimed in. "So, really, no harm done."

"Do you know what happened to the wand?" Hermione tentatively asked.

"I wanted to destroy it," Harry said. "I used it repair my own broken wand, then gave it over to Shacklebolt. I wish I had thought to tell Skeeter it was only a myth."

"Water under the bridge, Harry," offered Hermione. She glanced around. "I'm afraid Rita Skeeter showing up has turned the spotlight on you again. We're getting curious looks from the other patrons."

"Let's give them something to look at," Draco smiled. He leaned forward and kissed Harry, who smiled in return, then kissed him with a little more gusto.

A throat cleared. The passionate pair pulled away.

"This is for real, then?" Ron scratched his head.

Laughing Harry replied, "Yes, Ron. Did you think I was joking?"

"Not joking so much as . . . stressed out and not in your right mind."

Blaise laughed out loud.

"Glad you find this all so amusing, Zabini," Ron grumbled.

"Guess I've had a bit longer to digest it. Draco's had it bad for Potter for years. Ow," he complained when Draco punched his arm.

"Oh?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression you hated Harry. Or was jealous of him, or something."

Chuckling, Draco answered. "Or maybe a bit of all three. But it wasn't until I literally walked in his shoes that I understood him." He glanced away. "The two of you as well. Harry's lucky to have you as friends." The last part was a bit mumbled.

She nodded in understanding herself. He'd had the opportunity to see them as they really were, without prejudice, and he was acknowledging that they were, indeed, good people.

"Of course," Draco turned to Blaise, "I've been lucky myself," he said, gently squeezing the other boy's hand. "You're the only one who's stood by me. Why, I'll never know."

"Me neither, mate," Blaise snickered, taking the last swig of his butter beer. "However, I'm about to dump you. That girl over there has been fucking me with her eyes all night, and I'm about to return the favor." He paused. "Except with my plonker."

He tossed some coins on the table, patted Draco on the back and nodded to the others. They watched him as he strode up to the girl in question. She appeared to be a few years his senior and confidently looked him in the eye as he approached. He leaned to whisper in her ear. She threw her head back and gave a hearty laugh.

"Looks like he may be going home alone," observed Ron.

"Just keep watching," Draco motioned.

"But she laughed at him."

"Keep watching."

Blaise moved to the girl's other side and leaned on the bar.

"What's he doing?" Ron shook his head. "He's never going to get her if he turns his back on her."

"Never underestimate a great arse," Draco winked. "And Blaise has a great arse."

As predicted, the girl's eyes drew downward. Seeming to sense the attention, Blaise shifted on his feet, squeezing the muscles of his taut arse. Then he turned around abruptly. The girl, still looking down, couldn't help notice the way he filled out his rather tight trousers. He leaned in again, and this time, she gave a small nod.

Blaise winked at the group from across the room and held out his elbow for the lady to take. They left the restaurant arm in arm.

"What?" Ron shook his head. "Really? All he had to do was wiggle his arse and she went off with him? Who would fall for that?"

Hermione was still watching, open mouthed, the spot where the pair was previously standing.

"Mione?"

"Well," she cleared her throat, "he does have a great arse."

"Mione!"

"It wouldn't hurt to wiggle yours once in a while." She took a last sip of her drink. "And perhaps get some better fitting trousers."

"Yes," Draco agreed. "There's little that compares to well fitting trousers." He held up his glass for her to clink.

"That's just great, Harry," complained Ron. "Hermione and Malfoy are bonding over tight trousers." He blushed.

She gazed up at him through thick lashes. "I'd rather be bonding with you. You can forget the trousers."

"Mione, what's gotten into you?"

"A bit too much butter beer, I suspect," Harry laughed. "You'd better get her home."

"Or to a hotel," suggested Draco.

Ron blushed again. "I'm not going to take advantage."

Hermione leaned against Ron's shoulder, still gazing up at him. "Is it taking advantage if I want it?"

Ron glanced at Harry and Draco. "I'm taking her to the Burrow. She can sleep it off in Charlie's old room. Come on Mione."

He hoisted her up, while trying to reach into his pocket for money.

"I've got it covered, Ron. Just get her home. She's going to be terribly embarrassed if she remembers any of this," laughed Harry.

After they left, Draco sighed. "Now it's just us."

"Yes. And I'm perfectly sober."

"Me too."

Harry pulled Draco in for a kiss.

"Would you like to come to my house?" he asked.

Draco nodded. "Yes, please. My trousers are beginning to feel a bit . . . snug."

"Then we'd better get them off."


	19. the first time

*** had to make a few small revisions to this chapter. thanks for the heads up EllenZzzz**

* * *

Harry took a deep breath as he began unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes never left Draco, who was standing across the room mirroring Harry's actions.

It felt as they were both moving in slow motion.

Once they had left The Three Broomsticks, Harry had disapparated them directly to his bedroom. Neither one said a word while Harry lit candles and did some quick straightening–mainly to get some discarded clothing off his bed.

Draco hadn't moved from the spot they landed, but simply watched Harry move about. When Harry was finished, he stood by his dressing table. The candle nearby flickered, bathing him in a soft glow. Draco couldn't keep his eyes off him.

Without speaking, each of them knew the plan. They had been slowly moving toward this step. Yet, they hadn't talked about the particulars.

Draco trembled as he fumbled with his buttons. Harry had only three with which to contend, as his shirt could be pulled over his head. Draco had chosen to wear a shirt that seemed to have more buttons than any other in the world. And his fingers didn't want to work. Harry was shrugging off his shirt while Draco had only managed to get a third of the way down.

Harry gave him a soft smile, standing to wait for Draco to catch up. It was another example of Harry's infinite patience for Draco.

Draco willed his fingers to move faster, impatient himself to get on with things. Finally, he let his open shirt fall to the ground. He thought he heard a small gasp from Harry. But they'd seen each other nude before. This was nothing new.

Except that it was very new.

He swallowed hard, and moved his hands to the fly of his trousers. Harry followed suit. He realized that Harry was waiting for him to set the pace.

Once the trousers were gone, Draco had a moment of panic. How was he to remove his socks gracefully? Should he try to toe them off? Should he bend over? Should he lift his foot up? What if he lost his balance and fell? He settled for bending over to avoid standing on one leg as much as possible. When he looked back up, Harry was already finished. He imagined Harry had been the picture of grace.

Pants were all that was left. In the candle light, Harry's muscles were well defined, as well as the bulge in his underwear. Draco suddenly became acutely aware that his form was not nearly as masculine. His own musculature was lean, bordering on feminine. He was, however, rather proud of what he had hidden in his pants. Well, it wasn't well hidden at the moment.

Noting that Harry was again waiting for him, Draco slowly lifted the waistband of his pants over and past his erection, which sprang free with a bounce.

Harry laughed. Not at him, Draco was sure. He suspected it was more of a nervous laugh. He was quite nervous himself.

Soon, they both stood fully nude, staring at one another. Since Draco had been closer to the bed, Harry walked to him. He opened his mouth to speak, or so Draco thought. Instead, he covered Draco's mouth with his own.

Pulling Harry closer, Draco ran his hands down Harry's back, settling on his arse. Their erections rubbed against one another, trapped between them. Harry groaned loudly.

They snogged, for almost an eternity, grinding their bodies together, exploring every inch of reachable skin with their fingers.

When Harry's fingers dipped into the cleft of his arse, Draco found himself involuntarily widening his stance. Harry had been the only other person to touch him there before, and it was only a light touch, not too far.

Though apprehensive, he allowed Harry's finger to slip between his cheeks, but still a far cry away from the orifice.

"You have a great arse," were the first words Harry had spoken since leaving the restaurant. The first words either of them had.

Draco gave an appreciate squeeze to Harry's arse in return.

"It's okay if you touch me there," Harry whispered.

Not quite as gracefully as Harry had done, Draco pushed his fingers between Harry's cheeks, which seemed a fair bit more muscular than Draco's.

"Sorry," mumbled Draco when he thought he'd pushed too far and too hard.

"It's all right. You won't hurt me."

"I won't _mean_ to."

Harry chuckled lightly. "I know a spell. It will make things a little more pleasant."

"What sort of spell?"

Harry hesitated. He didn't want to ruin the mood by being overly descriptive. "For, um, cleanliness' sake."

"Oh." Worrying about how thoroughly he had showered did cross Draco's mind. He nodded his consent.

Reluctant to pull away, Harry retrieved his wand. "I feels . . . odd. But it doesn't hurt," he added quickly.

"You've done this spell on yourself then?"

"Yes."

"So, you've . . . touched yourself . . . there?"

Harry blushed. Sex with someone else was one thing. To admit you've taken things that far with yourself was another.

Smiling, Draco caught the blush even in the soft candle light. "There's nothing wrong with it. I have as well."

Flourishing his wand, Harry mumbled a strange incantation. Draco gasped. It gave him an empty feeling. It also made him feel like he wanted to be filled.

"Sorry, I should have warned that it was a bit cold too."

Draco merely stood, panting harder than ever. He took the wand from Harry and tossed it aside, sweeping him into his arms. His groping became more insistent. He stopped before his finger could slip too far into the ridge of Harry's arse.

"It's fine," Harry murmured against Draco's neck. "I've done the spell on myself as well. Do what you want."

Harry lifted a leg to wrap around Draco's waist, giving him free access. Draco's hands tugged Harry apart, and he pushed his finger against the wrinkle of skin inside.

"Oh, yes," Harry moaned.

As much as he enjoyed the sounds Harry made, Draco didn't have the nerve yet to breach the surface. Some sort of lubricant was in order, but Harry hadn't mentioned it. For the time being, they both seemed to enjoy the simple action of Draco's fingers rubbing against Harry's opening.

"Can I do something to you?" asked Harry. "I won't hurt you, I promise."

"Oh," seemed to be Draco's standard response when he didn't know what to say.

Not waiting for a true reply, Harry urged Draco down onto the bed. He hovered over him, kissing his neck, then making his way down. He paused to give a few good long, hard sucks to Draco's cock before moving on to his bollocks.

Harry looked him in the eye as he pushed Draco's legs apart, and knees to his chest.

Draco closed his eyes. This was it. Harry was going to fuck him. He didn't know if he was ready. No, he definitely wasn't ready. But apparently, Harry was. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and waited for it.

"Relax," Harry crooned.

Draco tried but it was no use. He gasped as something warm and wet touched his arse. It was too soft to be Harry's prick. Too small as well. He opened his eyes to find Harry licking his nether regions.

"You don't like this," Harry said when he noticed Draco watching him.

"No, it isn't that . . ."

"If you relax, it will be better," assured Harry. Though, he didn't really know because he'd never been on the receiving end of it himself.

Draco nodded and lay his head back down on the pillow. His tension had taken some of the wind out of his sails, so to speak. And Harry must have taken that for displeasure.

Once Draco truly relaxed, Harry's tongue was back, flicking and prodding, while his hand took hold of Draco's softened cock.

Before long, Draco could appreciate Harry's ministrations more clearly. He even found himself wishing Harry's tongue was strong enough to go beyond just the tip. He lifted his head and found that Harry actually seemed to be getting more pleasure out of it than he was.

Harry's cock was dark and dripping clear liquid. The moans he made added to Draco's pleasure. But he thought it was more from knowing Harry was getting off on it than the small vibrations his voice was causing against Draco's skin. By then, Draco was fully aroused and wanted very much to cum.

"I'm ready," he announced.

Harry lifted his head. "You're ready? To . . ." he was about to say fuck, but it sounded too vulgar at the moment, "have sex?"

Draco nodded. "Are, are you?"

"More than ready."

Scrambling on the bed toward the side table, Harry reached in and pulled out a few items, only two of which Draco recognized.

"What's that?"

"It's called a popper. It's a muggle thing."

"What does it do?"

"It relaxes you, makes you feel a bit high. Sort of the way butter beer does, I suppose," Harry answered.

"Have you tried it?"

Harry shook his head. "The boy, er, man, in the shop where I bought this said it was all the rage. I'd never heard of it before."

"I don't think I want to try it," Draco said. "At least, not the first time."

"Okay." Harry put it back in the drawer. He handed Draco the small square packet. "I took the liberty of doing a little research on the muggle internet. This came highly recommended. Very thin, so it feels almost like nothing at all. Go ahead."

"You want _me_ to put it on? I've never done that."

Harry chuckled. "Me neither. How difficult could it be?"

Furrowing his brow and looking too serious, Draco ripped open the condom packet. He understood the logistics. They were pretty simple. But he was nervous about doing it wrong and somehow hurting Harry. Or embarrassing himself completely.

He took a deep breath and moved his hands toward Harry's rigid cock.

"What are you doing?"

"You asked me to put it on." Draco cocked his head to the side, somewhat confused.

"On yourself."

"On me? But . . . I thought . . . weren't you getting me ready for . . ."

"I did that because I wanted to make you feel good. And I wanted to see what it was like. But I always intended to bottom."

Draco blinked a few times, tongue-tied. The whole time, he'd assumed he'd be the bottom.

"Unless you've really got your heart set on being bottom yourself," Harry smirked.

Swallowing his nervousness, Draco shook his head. "I was willing, but . . ."

"Then put it on so we can get to it. My bollocks are starting to feel numb. I want you so badly."

Draco had never mastered a task so quickly in his life. Harry swiftly poured some of the lubricant in his hand and sheathed Draco's covered cock in it. He then poured some more and unceremoniously shoved his fingers in his own arse.

For a moment, Draco thought he would cum just from watching Harry fuck himself with his own fingers.

"I'm ready," Harry breathed. He lay back on the bed, holding his legs up in invitation.

Draco nestled himself between Harry's legs. "Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. I've had more than my fingers up there before," Harry bit his lip. He was sounding like a depraved sex maniac compared to Draco.

"Oh, Merlin," Draco said, conjuring up the image of Harry fucking himself on a dildo. He couldn't wait any more.

He took hold of himself and placed his cock at Harry's opening. It looked eager to accept him, tensing, then relaxing. Slowly, Draco slid inside. He ran into some resistance and nearly aborted, but Harry reached out and pulled him closer. He glided in the rest of the way with relative ease.

"Oh, Harry, I feel like I'm going to cum already. This feels so incredible." He gazed down at his lover. "Are you all right?"

Though Harry nodded, his face bore the sign of discomfort.

"It's hurting you, isn't it? I'll get out."

"No. No, please," Harry begged. "I just need a few minutes to get used to it." He giggled softly. "Your knob seems to be a bit bigger than what I'm used to."

Draco grinned widely at the compliment. He leaned forward to kiss Harry. The kisses took Harry's mind off the slight burning sensation he had been experiencing. Instead, he began to push his hips forward to get Draco's skin against his cock.

"Maybe a little more lube," Harry suggested. "You put it in."

Draco pulled out and poured a generous amount of the oil onto his fingers. As he put them inside Harry, he was more turned on than ever watching Harry writhe beneath him. He wiped the excess oil on Harry's cock and re-entered him.

He was still in danger of cumming far before meant to, but in order to bring Harry pleasure, he had to move his hips. He pulled out halfway, then pushed forward again. Too embarrassed to admit to anyone else, Draco was glad to have discovered moving pornography pictures. One in particular showed a remarkably close shot of two men as they shot their loads. It was Draco's go to masturbation fodder.

But now, it was himself that he was watching, disappearing and reappearing. And it was Harry's arse that was so inviting. As entranced as he was by the sight, he wasn't even aware of how much noise he was making until Harry interrupted.

"Merlin, you sound so wanton. It turns me on so much." Harry was furiously tugging at his cock.

"Let me do that," Draco offered. He found it was easier said than done, however, as he struggled to keep his balance on only one hand. To compensate, he leaned back on his heels. It took more effort to move his hips in that position, but it left both hands free to touch Harry. And he knew exactly where Harry liked to be touched.

Before he ever had a chance, Harry whimpered and cried out.

"Fuck. I can't help it. I'm going to cum."

Draco watched as streams of semen burst out of Harry– a long one, followed by two shorter ones. A loud, obscene sounding groan came from Harry's mouth as he arched his back, then collapsed back onto the bed.

"Fucking hell." He appeared to have passed out after that.

Draco stilled, agape, watching Harry's performance. That's what Draco supposed it _had_ to be. Even in the moving pictures, no one looked to be that moved by a mere orgasm. Draco hadn't even had a hand on Harry's cock when he came. Though Draco had been painfully close to climax himself, he still sat watching.

When Harry came to, he asked, "Why did you stop? Did you cum?"

Draco silently shook his head.

"Keep moving," Harry smiled and attempted to move his arse into Draco's hips.

"But you've already cum. Wouldn't it be . . . rude of me?"

Laughing, Harry said, "Someone's got to cum first. I'm sorry I was so fast." He paused. "Is everything all right?"

Draco hesitated. He didn't want to ruin the mood, but he had to know if Harry was merely feeding his ego or if he was truly moved by the experience.

"Was it . . . good? I mean, was I adequate? Or were you trying to build up my confidence? I'm not upset if you were. I'd like to know, though, so I can improve."

Harry blinked in disbelief. "Adequate? Draco, that so far exceeded my expectations. My hopes, even. Did you not feel it?"

"Well . . . I didn't . . . you know, cum."

"No, I meant the connection. Although, I have to admit the orgasm was the best fucking thing I've ever felt. But I meant being close to you, being part of each other."

Suddenly, Draco felt ashamed. He had been so focused on the act itself, he hadn't taken the time to really pay attention to what was happening between them emotionally. Harry had been able to let go of inhibitions, embarrassment or etiquette, and allowed himself to feel Draco. All of him and only him. Draco was too worried about his execution and ability to satisfy Harry physically. So ingrained in him from a young age, responsibility and obligation were things Draco would find very difficult to release.

Draco covered his face with his hands.

"Draco?"

"I'm a terrible person," he mumbled back.

"No you're not. You're a beautiful person." Harry pried his hands away to find Draco's face tear-streaked. He also felt Draco's limp cock slide out of his body.

Harry gently tugged off the johnny, tossing it aside. Draco allowed him to pull him down into an embrace, spooning him from behind.

"This was supposed to be the best night of our lives," Draco whimpered. "And I've totally ruined it."

"You haven't ruined anything. And the night's not over. Tell me what's wrong."

"You're too good for me is what's wrong."

"Because I felt something you didn't?"

"Because all you cared about was me. And all I cared about was doing things by the book."

"Are you saying you don't care about me?"

Draco gasped and turned over to face Harry. "No. That's not what I meant." Harry's smirk told him he knew that. "I've never cared for anyone the way I care for you. But I've been so preoccupied with doing things the right way, it didn't occur to me that however we do things is the right way, for us."

"Then you've learned a very important lesson," Harry smiled. "Not everyone learns that at eighteen. Some people probably never do."

"But you did. You were just a child."

"In age, perhaps, but I was always an old soul. At least, I was until you came along and made me feel free." Harry brushed the hair off Draco's forehead. "The thing about relationships is that, unless you talk, really communicate, you don't know where the other person stands. It's all right for us to be in a different place from each other for a while. Everybody has their own pace. As long as eventually, we catch up, and find ourselves on the same page."

Draco nodded. He understood what Harry was talking about, even though he'd had little experience with relationships. He and Harper had certainly been in different places. However, they were never going to match up eventually. Draco realized that a couple of weeks into their relationship. Whatever Harper had with Harry had moved him too far forward for Draco to ever catch up. Especially, when he'd had Harry in his heart already.

This wasn't at all the same. Draco's feelings for Harry were equally strong as Harry's for him. In fact, he thought he was the one too far ahead. Harry was right about communication. But he was wrong about Draco's feelings. Draco just wasn't very good at being vulnerable.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" His eyes were closed and he was in danger of falling asleep during the lull in conversation.

"It isn't that I only cared about doing things the right way. I wanted to do the best I could. For you. I . . . love you."

Harry's eyes opened.

Continuing, Draco told him, "I understand about not being in the same place. And you don't have to say anything. I just wanted to make sure you knew that. I want you to know exactly where I stand."

Gazing into Draco's eyes, Harry was close enough to see the tiny speckles of color most people overlooked. His heart was so full at that moment, he forgot how to speak. Draco had been worried about being vulnerable, but he'd plucked up the courage to say what Harry had been feeling. Perhaps Harry wasn't as brave as he thought he was.

Harry swallowed. "Then you should know where I stand as well." He could see the love in Draco's eyes, but he could also see the anxiety. He decided to put him out of his misery. "I love you, Draco. I think I have for a while, but I wasn't courageous enough to tell you. Thank you for giving me the courage."

They came together for a kiss. Their first kiss of love. True love.

"Oh, Harry, I love you so much. I don't know why I was so afraid to tell you. Even if you hadn't said you love me too, I would be glad I told you. I feel so . . . light."

"Then show me. Show me how much you love me. Make love to me."

Draco's cock twitched at the thought of being inside Harry again. Though he truly wouldn't have complained if the night had ended without a climax for himself– Harry loving him was enough of a high– he very much wanted the chance to feel the closeness and freedom Harry felt.

"Do you have another johnny?"

Harry grinned. "I have a whole box of them. Two, actually. I wanted to be prepared."

"Good thing one of us was."

Harry leaned across the bed to open the side table drawer, while Draco sifted through the covers for the bottle of lube. When Harry began to tear the package open, Draco chuckled nervously.

"Um, I may need a minute."

"I can take care of that," Harry murmured, going in head first, to Draco's lap.

It didn't take much of Harry's tongue to bring Draco to life. As wonderful as it felt, however, Draco didn't want to miss a moment of Harry's arse. Harry slipped the johnny over Draco's cock and unrolled it down to the base.

"Look, this one has a little extra at the end to catch the cum."

Draco laughed, wondering how many discoveries they would make together as they embarked on this stage of their relationship. There were so many things that were new to them, that other people probably took for granted. He intended to enjoy every minute of it, rather than be embarrassed by his lack of experience.

Recalling how things went the first time, Draco poured a large amount of oil into his hand. Most of it went into Harry's arse, along with Draco's fingers. The rest was for their cocks. He wasn't surprised to find that Harry was aroused again. When Draco was feeling particularly randy, he could cum three times watching his pornography pictures.

Entering Harry the second time was quite different. He wasn't so much concerned with whether he went at the correct pace, or that he looked confident. In fact, he was certain he looked awkward and gangly as he slid in to the hilt. Harry, on the other hand, looked fabulously and shamelessly lustful.

This time around, Draco moved slowly, savoring the moments, appreciating the small things that went into making love. He hadn't noticed before how Harry's skin became flushed or how hard his nipples were. He hadn't even noticed his own nubs stiffen with arousal. But now, he noticed everything. He noticed how the prominent vein on Harry's penis pulsed. He noticed the way the muscles of Harry's stomach contracted and relaxed. He noticed how tightly Harry's arse sucked him in every time he pulled out.

He leaned over and licked at one of Harry's nipples, making him moan louder.

"Oh, Draco," groaned Harry, threading his fingers through the fine blond hair in front of him.

Draco reached between them to take hold of Harry's cock, stroking in time with his own hips.

"I'm getting so close, Harry. I want you to cum with me."

"Lean back again."

Puzzled, Draco would have thought it was better for them to have as much skin to skin contact as possible. He complied, leaning up on straight arms.

"No," Harry panted. "Lean all the way back like you did before. Trust me."

Draco did as he was told, and Harry straightened his legs out on either side of Draco, tightening his hold on Draco's cock.

"Yes. Fuck. Faster."

Getting a full view of Harry as he got fucked was certainly an advantage for Draco. But clearly, Harry was becoming undone, and quickly. This time around, Draco acted, and grabbed Harry's red, swollen prick.

"Harder. Fuck. Oh, there," Harry practically shouted.

He pulled Draco's cock in tight, cumming for the second time that night, with no less flourish than the first. But this time, he kept his eyes on his lover.

Draco gasped and whispered Harry's name before his body jerked and his toes curled. He had to steady himself on Harry's chest for fear of falling forward. As much as he tried to keep his eyes on his love, they rolled as his head fell back. He took in sudden breath, not realizing he had forgotten to breathe during his climax.

When his muscles relaxed and he opened his eyes, Harry was gazing up at him.

"That was lovely," Harry remarked.

"That was . . . well worth trying again, that's for certain."

"I wouldn't have felt right if you didn't get to experience what I did," Harry told him.

"Honestly? I would have been satisfied with you telling me you love me," Draco said. He eased out of Harry and removed the filled johnny. "Of course, now that I know what I would have missed, I'm glad you suggested it."

Getting off the bed, Harry retrieved his wand. He disappeared the condom and performed a cleansing spell on the pair of them.

"It's late," Draco noted.

"Yes. Past bed time for sure."

Draco bit his lip. He wanted to stay, but Harry hadn't invited him. Harry merely tossed his wand on the bedside table and crawled back into bed. Unsure of what to do, Draco stood looking around, then began to gather up his clothes.

"You can do that in the morning," Harry yawned. "I'll have Kreacher wash them for you. He'll probably wet himself at being able to do that," he laughed.

"You want me to stay?"

"Of course. You can't just say you love me and make love to me like that, then leave."

Draco dropped his bundle of clothes and literally hopped into the bed. Harry scooped him up, spooning him from behind again. In no time, the thoroughly shagged brunet was softly snoring.

Normally having a hard time sleeping anywhere but his own bed, Draco reflected on the day's events. It had been a roller coaster of emotions. He never dreamed it would end the way it did. He never dreamed his parents, especially his father, would give Harry their approval. There were expectations involved, and Draco hoped Harry would understand. But they made it over the first hurdle.

And Harry loved him.

Despite the privileged way he grew up, for the first time, Draco had everything he ever wanted.


End file.
